


Air From My Lungs To Give Voice To Your Song

by LicieOIC



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Abduction, Aggressive Doctor, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Amnesia, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dark Doctor (Doctor Who), Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Gun Violence, Happy Ending, Hypnosis, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Just to warn you, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Marriage, Minor Character Death, Moffat-style Eleven, Multi, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rock Stars, Suicide Attempt, the Doctor is not involved in the non-con elements even though he does have a darker personality, there's a baby in the final chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 09:04:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 36
Words: 169,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2103705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LicieOIC/pseuds/LicieOIC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose is an aspiring lyricist. The Doctor is the front man for the popular rock band, Paradox. When he discovers her talent with words, he wants to hire her despite her inexperience. Rose feels drawn to the Doctor and struggles with keeping her mind on business, especially when he offers to let her use his body as inspiration!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Inspiration

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the manga "Kaikan Phrase" by Mayu Shinjo. Betaed by myprvvalentine.
> 
> WARNING: This is a VERY dark and adult story. There is dub-con, non-con, drug use, bad language, naughty lyrics, and lots of sex. This story features a very aggressive and not-nice Doctor. If you are offended by any of these things, please do not read this story!

“Rose, did you finish the lyrics you were working on? I wanna see!”

The blonde looked up at her two friends who were sitting across from her at their favorite chippy, a vinegar soaked chip halfway to her mouth. Devouring the salty fried potato bit first, she nodded and reached into her purse for her little notebook, turning to the correct page before handing it over with a slightly nervous smile.

“Be kind,” she pleaded, then shook her head a second later. “No, wait, don’t. I need to know what you really think before I submit them.”

Keisha, the one who’d asked, was the one who’d told Rose about the contest. A big recording company, Moon Music, was offering five hundred pounds to the winner of their amateur lyrics contest. The winning lyrics would be used as the debut song for their new singer, Dave Proper. Shareen, who looked like the exact opposite of Keisha with her long bleached hair while the other girl’s was short and dark, was obsessed with bands and eagerly looked at Rose’s poem as well.

“Ooh, girl! These are steamy!” said Keisha, fanning herself with one hand, which just made Rose roll her big brown eyes, fringed with darkly mascaraed eyelashes. “Was it hard to write lyrics for a guy, though?”

“Well, it didn’t just come out on the page like that,” said Rose, tucking a strand of her hair behind one ear so she could freely fidget with her hoop earring. “But once I started thinking about what I’d really like a guy to feel about me someday, it was easier than imagining I _was_ a guy.”

She didn’t want to go into details about the process, because it was embarrassing to admit she’d created a dream guy in her head to write for, rather than specifically Dave Proper. He was cute, but not really her type. Her dream guy on the other hand… When she pictured his tall, lithe form, his long, elegant fingers, his strong, warm embrace, his amazing smile, (and nice bum), the words had just flowed.

“Rose, you’re blushing!” said Shareen, smirking.

“Shut up, I am not!” said Rose, throwing a chip at her friend, even though she could feel her cheeks were a bit warm.

She didn’t have a lot of experience with guys, which she thought might hurt her chances of creating lyrics that were good enough. The contest wanted words that were a bit more mature, no fluffy bubblegum pop. Her one failed relationship had been with the plonker Jimmy Stone at the tender age of sixteen. He’d demanded all of her attention and practically forced her to move in with him, which had resulted in Rose not taking her A-levels. When she left him and moved back in with her mother, Rose had been a tad gunshy of starting any new relationships.

“Well, I hope you win,” said Keisha, handing the notebook back to Rose. “Then you’ll become a famous lyricist and get us free tickets to concerts!”

Rose laughed. “We’ll see, I guess.” It was a nice dream. Being a lyricist definitely sounded better than working in a shop, which was what she did currently. She’d love to have a job where she did something creative. Folding and refolding shirts didn’t exactly require tons of brain power. But writing _Curse of the Fallen Angel_ , which was the title she’d decided on, had been exciting.

When they finished their lunch, the three girls walked back to the Powell Estate where they’d all grown up together. Rose waved Keisha and Shareen on ahead, so she could mail her lyrics at the post box.

She bounced on her toes a little, unable to help herself, as she carefully tore along the micro-perforated line in her notebook. She was fishing in her purse for the envelope she’d stashed in there earlier when it occurred to her that maybe she should have typed her lyrics. Surely, the judges would just throw away something handwritten, no matter how good her penmanship was.

The wind gusted through the wide alley formed by the counsel buildings just then, tearing the paper from her hands and carrying it toward the street.

“No!” she cried, running after it. Even if she’d decided to type up the poem, she couldn’t have anyone finding that paper. It had her name and contact information on it, moreover the lyrics were, as Keisha had said, _steamy_. It would be so embarrassing if someone she knew read them! What if it ended up being her mum?

Rose didn’t even realize she’d run into the street until she heard the screech of car tires against the asphalt and the blare of a horn. Her life didn’t flash before her eyes, but a sudden rush of fear-laced adrenaline punched her in the gut, choking the air from her lungs. She took a step back, as though to run, but her leg wobbled and slid out on some loose gravel, making her fall backwards and land hard on her bum. She squeezed her eyes tight as all sound seemed to stop.

It had happened so fast, a few seconds at most. Then there was a dull roar and warm air wafting around her, but most of all, no pain. Shouldn’t there be pain if she’d been hit by a car? Or maybe she was dead? Easing her eyes open, she saw that she was a mere few feet away from the front bumper of a sleek dark blue sports car. It was the engine she heard, its warmth she was feeling.

Her head jerked up as the driver’s side door open and a tall man stepped out. He was wearing dark blue jeans that fit his slender frame like a second skin, well-worn black chucks, and a long-sleeved white shirt under a black t-shirt with a Beatles logo in white. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes and he was chewing on one corner of his bottom lip, making it look ridiculously pouty. His chestnut hair was carelessly tousled and the sunlight picked out golden strands. Rose was fairly certain she should not be appreciating all of this eye candy so soon after a near-death experience, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Maybe she _was_ dead. Maybe this was the angel that would guide her to heaven.

He looked down at her, taking her in from head to toe. Self-consciously, she tugged at the short skirt she was wearing, her cheeks heating up.

“Good. I’d rather not be a murderer,” he said, his voice light and sardonic at the same time, couched in a smooth South London accent. He pulled off his sunglasses, sliding them over the neck of his t-shirt, revealing eyes like molten bronze. “Are you injured?”

Feeling flustered, Rose struggled to get to her feet without flashing her knickers to the man. “Oh, I’m-- I’m fine-- ah!” A sharp pain lanced her thigh and she sat back down abruptly, grabbing the area with one hand. “My leg,” she said, wincing. “I must have hurt it when I fell down.”

She gasped as he suddenly knelt down in front of her, his hand on her leg just over her knee. This close, she could see the charming smattering of freckles on his pale cheeks and his long eyelashes as he looked down at her thighs.

“Your leg?” he repeated. His hand slid forward, the tips of his fingers going just underneath the hem of her skirt. “Tell me if it hurts.” He moved his hand to the outside of her leg. “Here?”

“Um… I…” Rose struggled for words. She was trembling! She hadn’t been touched like this by a man since Jimmy, years ago. Perhaps that was why the sensations were so startling in their intensity.

“Or here?” His fingers moved to the inside of her leg, to the soft skin of her inner thigh. “Does it hurt?”

She didn’t seem to be feeling any sort of pain anymore. All she could concentrate on was the sound of his soft voice, the feel of his hand… She ducked her head, wishing she could hide her blush somehow. What was wrong with her? She couldn’t seem to get a full breath.

His other hand cupped her chin and suddenly tilted her head up, making her eyes snap open. When had she closed them?

“I won’t know what’s wrong unless you tell me,” he said, his dark eyes intense as they stared into hers. After a pause in which she was still too confused by her reaction to him to properly articulate any thoughts on the pain in her leg, he smirked. “What? Is this exciting you, too?”

If she was blushing before, her face felt like it was on fire now. She jerked back from his grip on her face, exclaiming, “No!” He was no angel, but a demon with an angel’s face!

He had the nerve to chuckle. “From the look on your face, it doesn’t seem like that’s the case.”

Grabbing her hand, he pulled her up with him and helped her to the side of the road. Rose tentatively put weight on her leg and was relieved when she didn’t limp. Maybe she’d just pulled a muscle.

He smiled at her sigh of relief. “You’re a funny girl. Cute, too,” he added, winking at her.

“What?” She was fairly certain she was going to be blushing permanently for the rest of her life after this.

He laughed again. “Unfortunately, I’m very busy today. I can’t take you to A&E myself. But if there’s anything wrong, come find me here.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a plastic tag on a slim lanyard. “I’ll be there for the next two days.”

Rose looked at the paper beneath the shiny plastic. It read _Paradox - Two Day Concert - O2 Arena_ and below that in big block letters, _All Areas Pass_. While she was examining it, she didn’t see him turn back to his car. When she looked up to ask a question, he’d already left.

She hadn’t even asked him his name. Looking back down at the pass in her hands, she wondered if he might be part of the music industry.

She blinked, reminded. “Ah! My lyrics!” She searched the area, being more careful to look for cars, but it was a hopeless cause. The paper was gone.

* * *

Rose got Shareen to cover for her and tell her mum they were having a girlie night. Rose was almost twenty years old, but Jackie Tyler still had very loud opinions about her daughter going out at night, especially without safety in numbers. She also kept where she was going vague to her friends, just in case the pass she’d been given was a fake, she didn’t want any witnesses to the potential embarrassment.

By the time she managed to slip away from her mum without raising too much suspicion and caught the bus to the O2 arena, the concert was already underway. The man at the door scanned the barcode on the back of her pass and bid her enjoy the show. Rose almost couldn’t believe it when he told her the section her ticket was for was right in front of the stage! She gaped as she walked down the rows of doors, listening to the muted music, the indistinct singing under the roar of the crowd, looking for section A. She’d passed by this area of town very seldomly, so she was unprepared for the reality of how huge the arena was. How was she supposed to find Mr. Sexy in here?

She supposed it didn’t really matter if she ended up not finding him. She wasn’t hurt from the near-accident. She could definitely use this experience as research for future songwriting, though. Just outside the ‘A’ door, she regretted not researching the band before coming. She’d heard of Paradox in passing, they’d just started getting really big, as the size of the arena would indicate.

Pushing through the door, she stood at the back of the section, overwhelmed by the screams of fans all around her, chanting ‘Doctor! Doctor!’ The audience was mostly women, though not exclusively, and Rose suddenly felt rather underdressed in her jeans and pink hoodie. Everyone around her was dressed to the nines, in cute, flirty club-wear. High above the stage hung enormous viewing screens, all of them showing the front man currently singing. He wore tight black leather trousers, slung low on his slim hips, and a long matching leather trenchcoat without a shirt underneath, revealing sparse hair sprinkled across his pectoral muscles and lower, a short happy trail below his navel. He effortlessly worked the crowd with his beautiful, emotional voice and sensual movements.

“I licked your naked silhouette with my tongue, tracing your curves, making you moan as you writhe in restless anxiety,” he sang. “I dig my greedy fingertips into your slender waist as the two of us fall into a sea of insanity. Let us melt, I’ll admit my sins and take my punishment tonight. Make me pant and beg for the sweet honey that drips, the neverending satisfaction that feels so right.”

The lyrics were so adult, it was no wonder they were popular, Rose couldn’t help but feel a guilty twinge of heat low in her abdomen, but it wasn’t just that. Everything about the singer called out to the listener, twining around their heart. It was so easy to imagine that he was singing right to Rose, not to the thousands of people in the arena at large. The naughty warmth he evoked… it was so similar to what she’d felt earlier that day…

She pressed her hands to her cheeks, feeling overheated. She wasn’t used to getting this worked up. Turning back to the door that led out, she thought she’d go to the ladies’ and splash some cold water on her face, that would sort her out…

“For our last number, we have a new song for you…”

She paused. She knew that voice.

_“Curse of the Fallen Angel!”_

Rose gasped and whirled back around as the band began to play. It couldn’t be!

“I want to ruin you with my love,” he sang. “But my hands make me a liar as I touch you tenderly. I want to steal you away, but I’ll lock you inside my heart instead of locked with me…”

_Those are my lyrics!_ she thought, aghast and utterly confused. _Why is Paradox singing_ my _lyrics?_

She ran down the aisle and edged her way through the crowd to the barricade, directly in front of the stage. That voice, those movements… She couldn’t tell from far away, but he was so similar. She stared up at the singer intently. Yes! He was dressed flashier and wearing eyeliner, but it was undoubtedly _him!_ Mr. Sexy! He had to have taken her lyrics somehow!

As the song came to a close, he looked _right_ at her with those brilliantly bronze eyes. With a smirk, he hopped down off the stage, the screams growing louder as he stopped right in front of Rose. Cupping her chin, he grinned and said, “I missed you.”

Before she could respond, all the lights blacked out. After the comparative brightness of the stage lights, Rose couldn’t see a thing, but she squeaked as an arm came around her waist and pulled her against a chest that was damp with sweat.

“Ah!” she cried as she was swept up into a bridal carry.

“Shh!” he hissed. He jumped back up on the stage as if she weighed nothing at all.

Afraid of being dropped in the darkness, Rose chose not to struggle, but as soon as she could see again, this nutter was putting her the hell down! What did he think he was doing, carrying her off this way? When her eyes finally adjusted, she saw that they were backstage and Mr. Sexy, or ‘Doctor’ she supposed, set her down abruptly before she could lodge a complaint. He grabbed a towel from a man with a pair of large headphones over his ears, wearing a jacket with “Paradox” emblazoned on it.

“I’ve told you not to jump off the stage, Doctor!” the man said. “You could get swarmed by the fans! Last time, they ruined your costume!”

“I timed it with the blackout, so there wasn’t a problem, don’t gripe at me for something that didn’t happen,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with the towel and then his chest.

The man grumbled, but said instead, “They’re calling for an encore--”

The Doctor’s response was cut off, because Rose was then surrounded by the other members of the band. Having seen them only briefly on the periphery, they seemed larger than life now.

She recognized the lead guitarist first, mostly because he was ridiculously attractive with very dark brown hair, violet-blue eyes, and a Disney Prince bone structure with a cleft chin. Those were some serious cheekbones and dimples. He wasn’t wearing a lot of stage makeup, but he didn’t appear to need it. He grinned at her, blatantly appreciative. “So, this is the Doctor’s--” The american paused, thoughtfully. “Hmm. Who are you exactly?”

A fiery redhead pushed him aside to get a closer look. She was the drummer and the only woman in the band. Her turquoise eyes slid up and down appraisingly, one eyebrow arched in interest. “You’re so young! How old are you?” she asked, unapologetically blunt.

“Donna, that’s not nice,” said the bassist, a blue eyed man with a slightly long nose and sandy hair that had gold sparkles in it. He was wearing eye liner similar to the Doctor’s, though he didn’t pull it off quite as well.

“She’s not exactly known for being nice, mate,” said the rhythm guitarist. He sized Rose up as well, but with a friendly smile. His eye liner was gold, which looked fantastic against his chocolate toned skin and made his dark brown eyes really stand out.

“Oi, shut it, you!” said Donna, giving him a smack in the arm before looking back at Rose. “Seriously, though, you ain’t still in school, are you?”

“Would you lot stop talking like that about my guest?” the Doctor broke in, suddenly. He edged away from a girl who was powdering his face and wrapped his arms around Rose’s waist from behind, causing her to give another startled squeak. “This is our new-found lyricist!” he announced, cheerfully.

“Now, just wait a minute!” she said, breaking free of his enthusiastic hug, bristling a bit at his seemingly unending presumption. “Yes, I wrote those lyrics, but I never gave you permission to use them!”

He pouted a bit, his lower lip looking much too pink and attractive. “Didn’t you like my song?” he asked.

She blushed. ‘Like’ didn’t begin to cover what he’d made her feel out there in the audience. “That’s not it,” she said, looking down at the floor. “It’s just… I’m nobody! A total amateur. Why would you want to sing songs with my lyrics?”

He walked towards her in a manner that could only be called _swagger_ , a sway in his hips that was utterly hypnotic and probably illegal on most of the planet. She felt a wall at her back before she even realized she’d moved away instinctively and he caged her in with a hand on either side of her head, leaning down until he could look directly into her eyes.

“Because I want you,” he said in a low voice that sent shivers down her spine. “I want to hire you to be Paradox’s songwriter.”

The man with the headset tapped the Doctor on the shoulder. “We’re ready for the encore.”

The Doctor straightened and Rose found she could suddenly breathe again as he stepped away. “I’ll get your answer after the show,” he said, waving to her while he headed back out to the stage. “I hope it’s good news!”

“Wait a second!” Rose called, but he was already out in the lights, the cheering and screaming renewed in full force. Just how did he go from being so sexy to so lighthearted in the blink of an eye? It was maddening.

She released a long breath. What was she going to tell him? If she refused, she’d never see him again, and for some reason, that caused a pang near her heart. She _wanted_ to see him. Not just as a fan, a faceless entity in a crowd of thousands… She didn’t know why, but he pulled at her, made her want to know him better. She pursed her lips. He’d already used her lyrics once, if that standard was okay, she _might_ be able to pull it off. Maybe she should at least _try…_

A balding man in a gray suit jacket over a white Oxford and blue jeans approached her with a mild smile under his slightly creepy mustache, a business card extended in one hand. “Hello. I’m Henry Van Statten, Paradox’s personal manager,” he said in an american accent.

“Oh, hi,” she said, absently taking the card. “Look, about this thing with me writing lyrics--”

“Please go home,” Van Statten interrupted, bringing Rose up short.

“What?”

“The music business is cutthroat,” he said, matter-of-fact. “It would chew up and spit out a pretty little thing like you. And you don’t know the kind of man the Doctor is. He has odd whims from time to time, and that’s all you are to him. He’s known for making scandals with women. If you were someone famous, that might be another story, but you’re not. Someone like you can only bring his image down.”

While she resented being called a ‘pretty little thing’ as if she wasn’t even a person, the rest of what Van Statten had said was true. She didn’t know anything about the Doctor and she was a nobody, she’d admitted it herself.

He patted her on the shoulder. “Please don’t take this personally, I’m not saying this to hurt you, it’s just the way it is. I’m warning you because I doubt you even realize that he’s just playing with you.”

“Yeah,” she said, softly, her eyes on the floor. “Um… Thanks. Sorry.”

Turning away from the stage area, Rose hurried deeper backstage until she was almost running for the first door marked ‘exit.’ How could she have been so stupid? To think even for a second that she had a shot at doing something amazing like writing songs for a band that could fill a huge arena with people.

The Doctor had put stars in her eyes, that was all. She’d become infatuated at first sight and it had blinded her to the harsher realities of the situation. He was famous, he could have anything he wanted. There was no way he’d really want her. He wasn’t someone she could possibly reach. What had even been the point in coming to the show?

Dashing tears from her eyes, she headed for the bus stop that would take her home.

* * *

“What do you mean, she went home?” the Doctor exclaimed as he shrugged out of the leather trenchcoat in the band’s dressing room. He tossed it to Amy, Rory’s girlfriend who helped them backstage, and she flinched as it landed on her head. He barely spared her an apologetic glance as she tugged it off, her ginger hair a bit disheveled, before turning his attention back to Van Statten, the one who’d told him his quarry had left.

“You were too pushy,” said Jack, who was busy getting out of his own costume. They’d all been together for so long, it was old hat for the men and women to see each other in their underwear. Well, once Donna had threatened Jack enough times to quit with the lascivious comments, that is. “You need to be gentle with women, especially someone as young as that girl. I had no idea you’d developed a taste for robbing the cradle!”

The Doctor sent him a sardonic look, that said more than words that he wasn’t about to take advice about women from Jack. “To get what you want, sometimes you can’t be gentle about it,” he said.

There was a brief knock at the door and then the stage manager came bursting in. “Guys, the fans who bought the concert CD are asking about the new song. The one that girl wrote the lyrics to.”

With a smirk to Van Statten, the Doctor snapped his fingers and said, “I knew it!”

* * *

The next day, Rose sat in the break room of Henrik’s, her earbuds in as she listened to Paradox’s latest CD on her iPod. She had her notebook in front of her and she tapped her pencil in time to the music, her left hand propping her chin up. Try as she might, no matter what lyrics she began to write for the Moon Music contest, the words sounded too much like Paradox. Like she was writing them for the Doctor.

It was only a few short hours ago that she’d spoken to him, and yet it felt like ages. Or something that happened in a dream. Hazy, distant, not quite real.

She jumped slightly as Keisha plopped down across from her at the break table, unwrapping a sandwich. Rose pulled out one of her earbuds and smiled at her friend, but it felt weak, even to her.

“Whatcha listening to?” Keisha asked, grabbing the iPod and giving the playlist a look. She nodded approvingly. “Nice. When did you become a Paradox fan?”

“Um… Recently.” _Very_ recently.

“Who’s your favorite? I like Jack, the lead guitarist. He’s soooo pretty!”

Rose tried her hardest not to blush. “I-- I like the singer. The Doctor.” Since Keisha knew bands better than she did, she asked, “Why does he call himself that?”

Keisha snorted. “He got asked that all the time in interviews, or at least, in the early ones. Says it sounds more impressive. It was his idea, too, not their manager’s.”

“Yeah, but just ‘the Doctor’? Doctor what?”

“Heh, they’ve tried to keep his real name under wraps, to add to his ‘mysterious charm,’” said Keisha. “But die-hard fans know that it’s John Noble. It was on his and his sister’s first album. Oh, the drummer, Donna? That’s his sister. They debuted as a duo, with him on piano, but when they got signed, they went in a different direction. That’s when they added the other members of the band. Jack’s a family friend, they all grew up together, Rory and Mickey were added by audition.” Her friend lifted one dark eyebrow. “Why the sudden interest, Rose?”

She made up some bollocks about being curious as a new fan. She couldn’t tell Keisha it was because she felt a burning need to know everything about the man called the Doctor. Not just what was in the interviews, more than just watching videos online… She wanted to be right next to him, hearing what he heard, seeing was he saw. Close enough to touch him.

Rose sighed for probably the thousandth time as she headed for the bus stop after work. She was absolutely, completely hopeless. She’d never been the type of girl to moon over celebrities on telly or in films. Apparently, she just hadn’t found the right celebrity. How depressing.

“Hello.”

She stopped dead in her tracks, her head snapping up at the sound of that voice, the voice that wouldn’t leave her mind. She blinked several times because surely she was hallucinating, but the Doctor was still sitting on her bus bench. He had his long legs stretched out in front of him, wearing another pair of skinny jeans, and a tight light blue Oxford. She could almost hear the buttons moaning in protest. He looked so… normal. Gorgeous, but normal. It was no wonder it had taken her a while to recognize him last night. His stage persona was so glamorous, so different from the way he was now.

“Hello,” she said, because it was the only thing she could think of to say.

“Nice day, Rose Tyler,” he said, inclining his head slightly.

“What are you doing here?” She hadn’t meant to blurt it out so accusingly, but there it was. She was too busy trying to ignore the way he said her name, rolling it around in his mouth as though savoring the taste of it.

“Oh, good,” he said, bouncing to his feet and ambling over to her. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to keep up the small talk for long.”

“Small talk?” she asked, drawing her brows together in confusion.

“Apparently, I need to be more ‘gentle’ with you,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’d rather just get right to the point.”

“Which is?”

He grinned widely, resting one forearm against the bus stop sign as he leaned toward her. “I’m here to kidnap you!”

She gaped at him. “You’re not serious.”

He almost looked hurt. “Of course I’m serious!”

“You can’t just announce to someone that you’re gonna kidnap them!”

“Would you prefer I just grabbed you and ran? I’m open to that.”

“No!” She took a step back, beginning to rethink her whole ‘crush’ on this man. He was clearly bonkers!

He immediately straightened and stepped forward as though afraid of letting her get too far away from him. “I just want to talk. Somewhere private, if that’s all right. I think we got off on the wrong foot, or even several wrong feet, and I’d like to talk to you where others can’t interfere.” He gestured up the street where she recognized his dark blue sports car. “I promise to be the most hospitable of kidnappers.”

His eyes were so big and deep brown, they resembled a sweet labrador puppy’s. She just couldn’t bring herself to say no. Even though her head was saying ‘this is such a bad idea,’ Rose reached out and took his outstretched hand. His smile was totally worth it.

“Good choice,” he said. “Because running away from me is a serious crime.”

Before she could wonder what he meant, he was pulling her along the sidewalk toward his car. The interior smelled like new leather. A state of the art sound system dominated the dashboard. It had so many buttons and gadgets installed, it looked like the console of a spaceship. Watching him handle the sleek wooden gear shift as he drove was much sexier than it should have been, even when he complained about third gear being tricky to find and blaming it on the car, saying it did it on purpose to irritate him.

He drove them across town to a posh flat. The decor was all very modern, done in white and chrome, with a lot of tile. There were bookshelves, but they only held a few books. The rest looked like the kind of generic chotchkies one might find in a home magazine. She suspected that his decorator had put them there and he hadn’t cared enough to replace them with more personal objects. There were a couple of modern paintings featuring a circular motif on the walls, but no photographs.

The one thing that actually looked out of place was the big grand piano near the doors to his balcony. It was spread with sheets of music, one pile even had a pair of rectangular specs laying upside down on it. If anything in the flat looked like it was really his, it was the piano.

She turned around as she heard the clink of ice in a glass. The Doctor was in the open kitchen that looked out over the living room, getting ice from the automatic dispenser in his brushed chrome refrigerator.

“You’re old enough to drink, aren’t you?” he asked over his shoulder.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes. I’m almost twenty.”

“Good to know.”

She tried not to think about what he might mean by that because she knew she’d start blushing again. He brought over two glasses filled with a dark liquid that fizzed and handed one to her, clinking it with his. She lifted an eyebrow while he sipped the drink.

“What is it?”

“Coke.”

“Oh.” She took a sip, then made a face as the unexpected burn of alcohol slid down her throat.

“And a little bit of Bacardi,” he said, cheekily. “Why do you think I asked if you could drink? I’m a responsible adult.”

She just glared at him. It wasn’t that Rose didn’t drink, she enjoyed going to bars and clubs with her friends from time to time, but she hadn’t been expecting the alcohol. Her reaction had been more in surprise than from the actual taste. Honestly, who _did_ that? She seriously doubted the ‘responsible’ part of that sentence.

With a saucy head waggle and a brief lift of his eyebrows, he wandered over to the balcony doors and looked out at the city. “As your kidnapper, my demands are simple,” he said. “Agree to be my songwriter, and you can go home.”

“But I’m--”

“However, your lyrics will have to fit with Paradox’s adult tone.”

Her eyes widened. Sexy lyrics, like the ones she’d been listening to all day? There was no way! “I can’t,” she said, turning to face the bar separating the kitchen from the living room and setting down her drink.

“Why not?”

She fidgeted with her hands, uncomfortable under his scrutiny that she could feel from across the room, even turned away from him. “I… don’t know how to write lyrics like that. It wouldn’t be believable coming from me.”

“The lyrics I used… Was that your first time writing a song?”

“Yeah. How’d you get them, anyway?” she asked, turning back around.

He shrugged. “I saw a piece of paper against the front wheel of my car yesterday before I drove away from you.” That also explained how he knew her name and where to find her. “Imagine my surprise when I picked it up and saw what was on it.” He swirled his drink in his glass. “They were good, Rose. Very good. Especially for a first time lyricist. I don’t think it’s a fluke, I think you really may have a talent for it.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his praise, even if he had nothing to back it up. “I’m sorry, I just… I really can’t.”

“Why?”

Rose sighed in exasperation. “You’re really gonna make me spell it out for you? I’m not experienced enough, okay? I’ve had one boyfriend in my whole life, I was sixteen, and it was an utter disaster. I don’t know anything about men, I especially don’t know what goes on inside their heads, so there’s no way I can write the lyrics you want.”

She stared at his floor, angrily, knowing she was blushing to the roots of her bleached hair. He didn’t say anything back to her. She wished he would just get it over with and tell her he was wrong and that he’d take her home, because standing there wallowing in her embarrassment was awful. At the dull click of him setting his drink aside on a side table, she glanced up.

“In that case,” he said, moving closer to her. “Let me teach you.”

When his fingers went to the buttons of his Oxford, she backed up. The bar hit her in the middle of her back and she caught herself on her elbows when her legs wobbled. Her mouth gaped open as more of his chest came into view, all the while, he moved closer and closer. Finally, he removed the shirt entirely, standing toe to toe with Rose, smiling gently down at her.

“You can use my body to inspire you to write the right kind of lyrics.”

She held up a hand, as if to fend him off. “Now, hold on! I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make fun of me, just because I’m an amateur, and--”

He grabbed her hand and leaned forward, placing it on his chest, near his collarbone. She sucked in a breath, all her words leaving her. His chest hair tickled her palm as he slid her hand down, over his ribcage. Her heart hammered, blocking out all sound, while he guided her hand up again, to touch his cheek. He nuzzled into her touch. Rose shivered.

“Now that you’ve felt a man’s body, how do you feel?” he asked, his voice low and husky. “Tell me.”

“I--” She couldn’t move. Why was she letting him do this to her? “I don’t--”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know,” he said, firmly.

He brought her hand to the center of his chest. Rose turned her face away, closing her eyes. The scent of him surrounding her, like some kind of citrusy soap combined with the musky smell that was just him, the feel of his muscled chest and his steady heartbeat beneath her fingertips… It was so overwhelming. Like he had yesterday, he cupped her chin with his free hand and turned her face back to his.

“Look at me,” he demanded. His long fingers caressed her cheek, then moved lower, to the zip of her hoodie, slowly pulling it down, revealing her light pink camisole. “What do you want me to make you feel?” he asked, looking at her with eyes so dark, they were almost entirely black.

_What does he mean by that?_ How could she tell him when she had no idea the extent of things he could make her feel?

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll have to resort to my own methods,” he said, right before ducking his head and placing his lips at the pulse fluttering in her neck.

Rose gasped at the sensation that burst from the spot, sending shivers down her spine and back up again. She bit her lip, but a soft cry escaped her as he found a place below her ear and dragged his teeth across it. She hadn’t known she could feel this way, she and Jimmy had only fumbled around a bit with their hands, and then he’d ditched her when she wouldn’t go ‘all the way’ with him, leaving her to sort out the flat they’d rented. But the Doctor… this was different on a whole other level. She could feel herself growing wet between her legs and she pressed them together in a vain attempt to relieve the ache that was slowly expanding. She was shaking from the intensity of it as he moved lower, placing a hot open-mouthed kiss to the swell of her left breast, right where her camisole began. She couldn’t seem to find breath to tell him to stop… Truthfully, she didn’t want him to. He might be taking advantage of her, but… she felt like she’d always wanted to be swept away.

In that moment, she was fine with whatever ‘method’ he wanted to use on her…

He lifted his head and smirked. “You’re not just ‘inexperienced,’ are you?” he said, making it sound more like a statement than a question. “You’re a virgin.”

She felt the color drain right out of her face and he chuckled, as if that was all the confirmation he needed.

“That mind of yours is just teeming with naughty thoughts and private fantasies,” he said, touching a fingertip to her nose. “Because you haven’t had sex yet, you spend your time imagining it, all the different ways a person could slowly drive you mad with passion.” He moved away from her and grabbed his shirt, throwing it back on while she sputtered in mortification. “All you have to do is turn those thoughts into lyrics. Just write out your physical desires.”

_So, that was what he meant when he said I should use his body to inspire adult lyrics,_ she thought, miserably. _It was just to get me to think pervy thoughts!_ She turned around to lean her arms heavily against the bar, feeling both relief and an acute sense of disappointment. She gasped as his arms came around her from behind, his chin on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll make sure to drag out all of your desires.” He whispered in her ear, “Shall I be a little gentler next time?”

Her blush returned. “Do you… really think I can write those types of lyrics?”

“I do,” he said. “I’ll help you. For example, a kiss.” He reached up with one hand and traced her mouth, running his thumb along her full lower lip. “When you think about it, just a simple kiss could be boring. Why don’t we change that?” He turned her head towards him. “Come close so you can feel my breath.” He pressed down on her chin until she opened her mouth. “Part your lips slightly.” He moved closer until he was out of focus. “And give me your tongue…”

She found her eyes drifting shut… then there was a rush of cold air as he suddenly stepped away from her.

“How’s that? Have you got at least a phrase yet?” he asked, grinning.

Rose covered her face with her hands. She really thought he was going to kiss her! Instead, he was just really good at embarrassing her.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never been kissed before?” he asked with a laugh in his voice.

“Of course I’ve been kissed!” she snapped, utterly outraged by his behavior. She didn’t add that the kisses had been sloppy and not at all like the enjoyable embraces he’d just subjected her to. And he hadn’t even really kissed her! Her anger only provoked another chuckle from him and she put her hands on her hips. “Just what is so funny?”

He gave her a smile that made her heart skip a beat. “You’re just adorable, that’s all,” he said, shaking his head.

She’d barely known him two days and yet, she could somehow sense that she was seeing glimpses of John Noble, who smiled like a normal person, not the Doctor persona from the stage who was dark and mysterious. She wondered if he let anyone else get close to him like this, and it made her feel special. It made her want to understand him, the unknown John within the unknowable Doctor.

But in order to do that…

“I’ll do it,” she said, standing up to her full height and looking him right in the eye. “I’ll become Paradox’s lyricist.”


	2. Lyricist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose gets to know Paradox better and writes the lyrics for the band's next song. The Doctor continues to utterly confuse her.

“Alright, now, Jack-- keep your head turned that way, but look over here with your eyes-- brilliant!”

_Flash._

Rose looked on in wonder as the photographer positioned Jack for the next shot. They’d already done a number of shots with the whole band and had moved on to solo shots. Rose flipped through some of the stills on the nearby computer that was hooked up to the camera. She had to admit, Jack was a stunning subject. His eyes looked brilliantly blue. But she thought they just couldn’t compare to when the light came through the Doctor’s eyes, making them look like glowing amber.

She was still stunned that she was able to be a part of all this. When she’d agreed to become Paradox’s lyricist, the Doctor had invited her to the photoshoot the next day, to get to meet the other members of the band, learn their personalities, and get a better feel for their vibe. The biggest shock, however, was when he handed her a key to the front door of the flat they’d been in. Apparently, it wasn’t where he lived, he had another flat for that, this was where he worked. It was a ‘safe house’ of sorts. It was purchased under a pseudonym and the fans didn’t know about it. He’d go to that flat when he needed to get away and have the privacy to compose.

Her knees had just about given out, though, when the reality of the key sank in. The place was _huge!_ At least twice as big as the flat she shared with her mum. But she guessed he could afford to be generous, plus it made sense. They would need to work together sometimes, to make sure the words went with the music.

Changing files at the computer, she clicked on the earlier shots of the whole band. The photographer did his job very well, putting each of them into a pose or position that would show them off best, yet her eyes were still instantly drawn to the Doctor. As the lyricist, Rose’s job would be similar; to write the words that would suit him the most.

“Enjoying the scenery?”

Rose jumped at the Doctor’s voice suddenly in her ear, his hands dropping down on her shoulders. “Shame on you, sneaking up on me like that!” she chided him. “What if I’d screamed and disturbed the whole crew?”

He gave a mock-pout as he came to sit in the chair next to her. “That’s what I was hoping for.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m starting to learn what a man-child you can be.” She clicked on a close-up of the Doctor and nodded approvingly. “Not to blow up your ego, but this is just gorgeous. He really knows how to capture you. Your eyes are so vibrant!”

She expected him to make some kind of cocky comment and was surprised when he was silent. Looking over at him, she saw that his expression had closed off. He looked at the photo of himself darkly, almost with loathing.

“Eyes like the burning stamp of sin,” he said.

She blinked. The phrase was beautiful, but uttered with such venom, she didn’t know how to respond. She realized how very little she really knew about him. Despite the internet research she’d been doing on him and the band, the Doctor was still a stranger. She wondered if he allowed anyone inside his heart, if there was anyone who really knew him. Perhaps Donna? Just as she opened her mouth to ask what he meant, he got up and stalked away. Somehow, she knew not to follow him. His very aura exuded a definite feel of ‘do not disturb.’

The Doctor walked across the studio away from the bustle of the shoot and leaned against the far wall, his arms crossed over his chest. Silently, he watched Rose who in turn watched the photographer. He liked seeing the amazement in her eyes and excited smile, it almost made him forget her off-hand comment about his eyes. Almost. He wasn’t angry with her, she didn’t know why it made him upset. If he had his way, she never would.

He watched her move around, being careful to stay out of everyone’s way, but she appeared truly focused, going about unobtrusively to look at the shots from different angles and chatting with the band members when it wasn’t their turn to be photographed. Mickey and Jack already loved her, from what they’d told him, and she was currently talking to Rory near the snack table. From their occasional giggles, the Doctor figured it wouldn’t be hard for her to win over Donna either.

Van Statten, a paper cup of coffee in his hand, wandered over to join the Doctor. He wasn’t fooled by the casual nature of his manager’s stride. The man wanted to talk about something. The Doctor resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Are you sure you want that girl to be writing lyrics for the band?” Van Statten asked. At least he got right to the point. “The next song is supposed to be a big production. Suppose she’s not any good?”

“Henry, we’re the creative end of things,” said the Doctor, with a hint of annoyance. He didn’t like his choice being questioned. “We’re the producers of the product. Taking control of this situation isn’t part of your job, so butt out and leave it to us.”

He pushed away from the wall, done with the conversation. Van Statten didn’t call him back, as the Doctor had known he wouldn’t. What he’d said was true, so there was nothing the other man could say about it.

When Rory was called for the next set of shots, Rose lingered by the snack table to pour herself a cup of coffee. She’d had to arrive really early that day and mornings were never her strong point. Despite the tea she’d had at breakfast, she was still suppressing her yawns, so the stronger dose of caffeine would do her some good.

“Who’s the new girl? I thought she was a fan at first, she’s so young!”

The question was in a whisper, but the words still travelled down the length of the table to Rose’s ears. She looked up to see two female crew members with their backs to her a short distance away. Rose deliberately moved slower, adding creamer and sugar to her coffee, stirring them in with a slim red straw. Were they talking about her?

“Is she his new girlfriend?” the one with long light brown hair asked.

The other, with short pink hair, answered, “No, I thought he was still with that other famous singer… What was her name?”

“I thought he was close with that one actress.”

“Oh, no, she’s so old!”

Rose fought the urge to make a disgusted face as she selected a lid for her cup and moved away from the table. No wonder gossip spread so quickly! She followed behind most of the crew as everyone moved outside for the second part of the photoshoot, not wanting to be in the way. The band’s makeup was retouched, and Rose noticed a girl with long red hair overseeing the other two makeup artists. She’d seen her holding hands with Rory inside. Were they together?

Just as the photographer called for the outside lights, a large man in a black production t-shirt and dark sunglasses grabbed Rose by the arm.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” he demanded, but didn’t give her time to explain. “This shoot is closed to the fans. You have to watch from back there, with the others!” He began to pull her off toward the barricade where other men kept the fans at bay.

“Wait, no, you don’t understand,” said Rose. “I’m not a fan, I’m Paradox’s lyricist!”

That brought a hum of chatter from the fans and crew members alike, even though the bouncer fellow scoffed and said, “Yeah, right!”

“No, I really am!” said Rose, trying to pry her arm out of the man’s grip.

Suddenly, the Doctor was there, grabbing the bouncer by the shoulder. “Just what are you trying to do to my woman?” he said, coldly, his eyes narrowed. He hadn’t shouted, but Rose was sure everyone had heard him even so. She heard the click of someone’s camera, probably on a mobile, several more clicking in the next few seconds.

The Doctor moved to Rose and delicately extracted her arm from the bouncer’s grasp. He cupped her chin and tilted her face to the man. “Do you see this face?” he asked. “Remember it.” He looked at the rest of the crew. “All of you should learn to recognize her. Because from now on, I’ll be bringing her with me.”

“S-sorry,” the man stuttered. “I didn’t know. I’ll be careful to remember her.”

“See that you do,” said the Doctor, before dropping his hold on Rose and going back to the shoot. Jack grabbed him by the sleeve of his jacket, pulling him in close so they wouldn’t be overheard.

“It’s good that the crew will know Rose now,” he said, quietly, “but you could be a little more discreet about it.” He nodded toward the barricade where the fans were still buzzing. “They all heard you. How do you think they’re going to react?”

The Doctor’s jaw clenched. “I get it, Jack.” He knew that fans could be possessive of their idols. The last thing he wanted was for Rose to have trouble because of him.

* * *

“No way, Rose.”

Rose’s face fell. She stood next to Van Statten in the band’s dressing room as the Doctor had his hair styled for that evening’s performance. It took a surprising amount of time to make it look like the Doctor had just woken up looking that sexy.

“But why?” she asked. “Your manager gave me a front row ticket! I should use it.”

“Watching from offstage is fine.”

“I need to be in the crowd to see their reactions,” she argued. “And the front row is the best place to do that! Besides, it’ll also let me hear which song phrases are the most popular.”

The Doctor sighed and waved the hairdresser away. He got to his feet and went directly to Rose, leaning down a bit to look her right in the eyes. “If you’re set on it, then fine,” he said. “But if anything happens, if there’s any trouble, you come right backstage with your pass. You understand?”

“Y-yeah,” she said, nodding. She released a breath as he returned to the chair he’d vacated. What an intense reaction! What was that all about?

She chose to not worry about it as she joined the huge crowd of people in the arena. The Doctor was probably just nervous that something like the incident at the photoshoot would happen, where a crewmember wouldn’t recognize her. She had a backstage pass this time, though, she’d be fine.

As she sat down in her chair, she couldn’t help but feel happy, tapping her toes on the floor and smiling. A front row ticket should have been impossible for her. Nevermind that tickets to see Paradox were very hard to get, the cost alone would have prevented her from ever seeing a show. An awesome perk for an amazing job! She couldn’t wait to tell her mum and her friends. She’d held off on it until she could write her first song, because she was still nervous that the Doctor would sack her if it turned out to suck. But if it didn’t… Ooh, Keisha and Shareen would be so jealous!

Rose startled slightly as the girl sitting next to her poked her in the arm and extended a piece of paper to her. “Here, pass it on,” she said.

Confused, she took the paper and opened the single fold. The handwritten note said, ‘The girl below has violated the barrier between fans and is trying to get close to the Doctor. I’m so mad! Let’s terrorize her!’ Rose was shocked to see her name, home address, and mobile number written underneath!

Her jaw dropped. Who had done this? It had to be someone who knew her, who else would have her personal information? The hand holding the paper shook.

“Isn’t it awful?” the girl next to her said, leaning over to talk when she saw Rose still holding the note. “This poor girl is everyone’s target now. I’ve heard some people are planning to make prank calls or send threatening notes.”

“Th-that’s terrible,” Rose said, hardly able to get the words out.

“I know, fans can be insane,” the girl said, rolling her eyes. “Some of them even want to try and attack her in person, to give her a scar or something to teach her a lesson. All because she got close to the Doctor and we can’t.”

The person on the girl’s other side caught her attention then, leaving Rose alone. Rose crumpled the note in her hand. How many people had seen it already? Were there multiple copies going around the arena right now? She stood up and hurriedly left the audience, just as the five minute announcement went out and a cheer spread over the crowd.

* * *

When the performance was over, the band headed backstage, but the Doctor ran ahead of them, bursting into the dressing room, urgently calling, “Rose!”

She looked up from the table that held bouquets of flowers and little presents for the band and smiled. “Hey. Something the matter? You look worried.”

He entered the room and frowned at her. “I didn’t see you in the audience.”

She shrugged. “Oh, I watched from the stairs. I thought I could get a wider view of the audience from there.” She turned away, idly touching the leaves on a fern. Rose knew that the fans were really important to the Doctor. She couldn’t tell him about the note. “They really seemed to like _Constellations on Skin_. I noticed that it’s also the most sensual of the songs--”

She gasped as the Doctor’s arms wrapped around her from behind, pulling her close to him.

“No more wandering off. Don’t disappear from my sight ever again,” he said in a low voice, right next to her ear.

Too startled to speak, she nodded. Had he searched for her during the concert? In a crowd of thousands? Even if he only thought of her as the band’s lyricist, he cared for her.

She would become stronger. She could deal with threats.

* * *

Rose yawned as she stood outside the Powell Estate the next morning. She’d made the mistake of answering a call from a number she didn’t know last night and it turned out to be a fan, making threats. As a result, she hadn’t slept well. But the Doctor sent her a text, telling her to be ready for him to come pick her up in the morning. He had music to show her. It was time for Rose to start earning her title as lyricist.

“Oi!”

She turned to see a number of girls, maybe her age or a few years younger, coming up the sidewalk. None of them looked happy.

“Are you Rose Tyler?”

“Um…” She looked from one person to the next. She could deny it, but what if the pictures of her at the photoshoot had been connected with the information that was spread at the concert? Figuring they’d find out sooner or later anyway, she said, “Yeah. I’m Rose.”

“Who do you think you are?” one of them asked, nastily. “Sneaking around the Doctor all the time!”

“I didn’t sneak around,” said Rose, but they only looked more angry for her response.

“You think you’re something special?” said another girl. “You better swear that you’ll never go near him again, or you’ll be sorry.”

Rose backed away as the crowd of girls came closer, trying to ring her in. She widened her stance, getting ready to run. Growing up in a slightly rougher neighborhood, she’d learned how to defend herself, but she couldn’t take down a whole group of people by herself. If she called for help, would anyone hear her? Would they even come to her aid? She’d once heard it was better to call ‘fire!’ rather than ‘help!’ and wondered if it was true. She might be about to find out.

The screech of tires made everyone freeze and turn toward the street. Rose found she could breathe again as she saw the Doctor’s blue sports car at the curb. The door opened and he got out, taking off his sunglasses and scowling at the scene before him.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, stepping forward, making the threatening girls back away from Rose. His eyes narrowed. “You’re not bullying my precious fan, are you?”

“Doctor,” one of them said in a quavering voice, “you don’t understand our intentions…”

“No,” he said. “I don’t. How could you just--”

Rose grabbed his arm. “Doctor. It’s fine. They didn’t do anything.”

He frowned at her and tried to shake her off. “Let me go, Rose. I can guess what they _wanted_ to do.”

Stubbornly, she held onto him. “I understand how they feel!” That made him stop jerking his arm. “No matter how they chase you, you’ll never give them another look. They’d be jealous of _anyone_ who can be close to you, because it’s hard to only be able to sit and stare at the telly. If I was in their place, I’d feel the same way. Can you understand that?”

He stared at her for a moment longer, then looked back at the girls, who had crowded together, like baby chicks protecting themselves. “You lot,” he said, slowly. “If you love me, then be good girls.” With a charming wink and a smile, he added, “Good girls are usually rewarded!”

Almost as one, the group of girls blushed and agreed to be better, then scurried away. Rose was impressed. The Doctor understood that by using their admiration for him, they would love him all the more. Nothing would have been solved if he’d lashed out in anger, which was why Rose had stopped him when she did. This way, he kept his fans, and controlled their behavior to a certain extent. Rose just hoped that what had happened would go up on social media later. Maybe it would spread and the rest of the fans would realize that the Doctor didn’t want Rose hassled.

When he turned toward her, his smile had become a little tight. “You had me worried there. I’m glad I came when I did. Next time, stay inside and I’ll text when I’m here, just in case.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

He just shook his head and gestured toward the car. “Ready to work?”

Grinning, Rose hurried to the car. She couldn’t wait to get to work.

When they reached the flat, she ran ahead of him to use her key for the first time and he chuckled at her enthusiasm. The Doctor went to the piano while Rose set down her messenger bag and pulled out her notebook. Slowly, she walked over to him as he began to play, a slow, beautiful song that she’d never heard before.

“That’s lovely,” she said. “What’s it called?”

“It doesn’t have a title yet, because there aren’t any lyrics yet,” he said, lifting his left eyebrow at her. “I just finished it yesterday.”

“When did you have time?” Between the photoshoot and the concert, when did this man ever eat or sleep? Then again, she was pretty sure he had no fewer than four slices of pizza at the shoot. How did he stay so skinny?

“I make time.” He stopped playing and smiled at her. “Want to hear more?”

“Of course!”

He held out his hand, wiggling his fingers as he had the other day when he’d ‘kidnapped’ her. When she took it, he pulled her down on the bench next to him, their thighs pressed tightly together. He wrapped the arm closest to her around her back in order to reach the keys he needed to. Rose’s heart thudded and she could feel her cheeks warming as he continued the song.

She watched his long fingers move deftly over the keyboard, then looked at his face, how his eyes were shut in concentration, his eyelashes making two dark crescents on his cheeks, the way his fringe swayed to the melody as he moved… When he was onstage, all these things were for the fans. But right then… it was all for Rose.

Just for this moment alone, the unpleasantness with the fans earlier faded away.

“This is the song you’ll write lyrics for,” he said, as he hit the final chord.

“You want me to write sensual lyrics for this beautiful song?” she asked, her blush lingering.

“It only sounds that way because I’m playing it on piano,” he said. “It’s actually got a very seductive sound.” He leaned closer, until he could almost brush her shoulder with his chin. “Shall I help you to hear it?” He grabbed her hair into a loose ponytail in his fist, tilting her head back, kissing her neck as it was bared to him.

“Ah!” she gasped in surprise, shivers spreading from the spot and traveling through her body.

“Hush,” he said, his lips against her skin, sliding down to where her neck met her shoulder. “Listen.”

His body was so warm, and his fingers, those same fingers that had coaxed such beautiful sounds from the piano moments ago, caressed her, trailing through her hair, down her back, to wrap around her waist and hold her closer. She tried to concentrate on how it made her feel, because after all, that’s why he was doing it. What more would he do to her, she wondered, to get her to write lyrics for a song full of such sexual energy? Did it feel chaotic to her? Passionate? When he lifted his head and looked at her with his eyes darkened and heavy lidded, she shivered again, the image so blatantly sexual, her imagination whirled.

He sat back, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and withdrawing what looked like a keychain. With a cheeky twinkle in his eye, he slid it into her cleavage, which made her face turn red. She grabbed it at once and saw that it was a small flash drive.

“That’s a copy of the song, it’s not great quality, it’s just me on the piano, but it’ll do for you to get the rhythm correct,” he said, then cupped her cheek with a grin. “I’m looking forward to hearing the lyrics we inspired.”

She pursed her lips as she looked down at the drive in her hand, resisting the urge to tell him off. He was her boss, really, and he was only teasing her to help, even if he could be a jerk about it. It didn’t matter if he was just playing with her or only did it to the point where she couldn’t stand it; it was all for the music. That was all that mattered. If it got results, that’s all the Doctor cared about, she was sure.

The Doctor left soon after that, he had a meeting and a practice to get to, but Rose stayed to work on the song. She wanted to do well, not just because it was her job, but as a small thank you to him for saving her from the overzealous fans earlier. She transferred the song from the drive to her iPod and curled up on the couch to write with her notebook.

She closed her eyes and thought about what it was like to be held by him. Her heart began pounding anew as she imagined the scenario… His bare back, glistening with sweat, his soft lips, his strong hands, the warmth radiating from his skin… His face, flushed, his mouth parted as he panted for breath… She didn’t want to just be held by him, she wanted to see all of him.

Rose blushed again. It still shocked her a bit that erotic lyrics would come to her so easily.

* * *

She went to the studio the next day, wanting to give the Doctor the lyrics in person and hopefully get his reaction. But it was Van Statten who came down to meet her. He took the large yellow envelope from her and said he’d pass them along.

“Um, is the Doctor busy?” she asked, a bit put off that she was essentially being told to run home like a good little girl. “I want to know how he feels about the lyrics, maybe get his opinion?”

The older man turned and frowned at her. “Don’t bother the Doctor,” he said. “You can’t be distracting him. Did you know he was late to an important meeting yesterday because he was spending time with you? What about the band’s future success? If you hold him back, do you think you’ll be able to write lyrics for him then?” He walked off toward the lifts and waved the envelope at her in a lazy farewell. “I’m looking forward to hearing your work. I hope you’ll be more professional about this in the future.”

Rose bit her lip, not knowing what to say. She hadn’t thought about the band’s future. She’d only thought of the Doctor. Real lyricists probably emailed their work, they didn’t come down in person. She’d have to try harder to be more professional and not let Van Statten get to her. It was just business. She’d only be a nuisance to the Doctor if she let her lyrics suffer due to her hurt feelings.

* * *

She didn’t hear from the Doctor or, in fact, any members of Paradox for the next two weeks. She would have thought that maybe they hadn’t liked her lyrics and this was a polite way of firing her, but her bank account said otherwise. She’d finally told her mum a version of the truth since she was no longer going to work at Henrik’s; that she’d managed to sell some song lyrics to a record company and had been paid very generously. Her mum had some words for her, about the job at the shop having given her airs and graces, and not to forget where she came from, but after all that, she was so proud of her, and warned her not to think she’d be successful every time. Sensible advice from her hardworking mum, but Rose was an adult, and as long as she had some pay coming in, Jackie was fine with letting her alone.

Still, Rose wondered if, having gotten the work from her, the Doctor had just forgotten about her. She would have gone to the studio, but didn’t want to be told off again by Van Statten, and she didn’t know when, if ever, the Doctor was going to be at the flat, so she carried on with her life. Sleep, telly, friends, chips… The usual. She couldn’t bring herself to summon her customary enthusiasm, though, not after having dipped her toe into the Doctor’s extraordinary life. She missed him.

Then, she got the text.

_Come to Piccadilly Circus right now. --Doctor_

Confused, but excited, she put on her shoes, grabbed her bag, and was out the door to catch the tube. What was happening at Piccadilly Circus? Did he want to meet her there? What for? Her mind was full of questions with no answers.

To her surprise, there was a huge crowd gathered around the fountain. Rose had to walk carefully and squeeze between people in order to find a place to stand where she wasn’t at risk of being crushed. She looked around, surprised to see that almost all of the advertising space was taken up by Paradox and recognized the pictures from the photoshoot. She overheard some girls talking about a performance from the band, debuting their new song. Here? But there was no stage, or at least, none that she could see…

The audience cheered as the big screen advertising televisions above three of the large retail units lit up at the same time and the Doctor’s face appeared. Amid the shrieks, Rose recognized the tune. And the lyrics!

The Doctor was singing _her_ lyrics!

“Your hand is shaking, you grasp the covers as I caress your body with mine,” he sang right to the camera. “You can’t but you want to, stop resisting your desire. Open up to me and let our figures entwine.”

Rose stood transfixed. When she’d listened to the Doctor play this song the first time, and then relistened on her iPod while she wrote, she hadn’t thought the song was _this_ sensual. But the Doctor’s sound and singing style made the song so much more provocative.

“Your hand is shaking, you grasp the covers, you’re so nervous, you’re scared, and yet it’s me you hold. Making love, so sensuous, seductive, the scratches down my back burn red hot and cold.”

The lure in his lascivious personality shone through Rose’s lyrics like a diamond in the sun. Still, she wondered if she’d done well, if she’d still be considered a bother if she went back to the studio.

“Don’t play around, don’t make me search for the you who wants this, who needs to be naughty. Don’t turn away, I want to hold you, to answer your desires, my hands wandering over your body. Your sweet sweat is my drug, an overwhelming aphrodisiac. I can’t let you go, I won’t be fulfilled, you make me crazy, I'm just your maniac.”

The debut wasn’t a polished music video. It was simple, just the band on a soundstage, but Paradox still made it compelling. It faded to a still promo image and the words _Paradox’s New Single - Drug - Coming March Fifth_ amid cheering and applause from the audience. All around Rose, people were talking excitedly about the new song.

“The Doctor is so sexy!”

“I’m getting hot just thinking about him!”

“Paradox is so great! I love this new song!”

“Best song ever!”

“The lyrics are so awesome!”

Rose sucked in a breath at that, going completely still. The fans were dispersing, swarming all around her, still talking about the lyrics she’d written.

“Totally! I want to just wrap my arms around myself and drown in feels!”

“They really made me feel what it would be like to be in bed with the Doctor…”

“Oh, no, I wanna do it with Jack!”

“I heard that Radio Times has an interview talking about the song lyrics.”

“Ooh, let’s go buy a copy!”

Rose wandered over to a store front and leaned against a large advert of the band that was posted to the window. She covered her mouth with a shaking hand as tears brimmed in her eyes.

They’d felt it. The things she’d felt when writing the song… It had gotten through.

“You sure know what lyrics to write in order to capture women’s attention.”

She turned around to see the Doctor standing a few feet away, his hands in his dark washed jeans pockets, a black newsboy cap on his head, and wearing dark sunglasses. She smirked, feeling like she was getting used to his ambushes by now.

“When I saw you for the first time,” he said, walking towards her slowly, “when you stopped in front of my car and I first found your lyrics, I knew you were the only one who could write for Paradox.” He pulled off his sunglasses and tucked them into his carelessly buttoned maroon Oxford. “I knew then that it was fate for us to meet.”

“You believe in that?” she asked as he closed the final distance between them.

“I believe in _you.”_ He leaned down and slanted his lips over hers.

In her shock, she couldn’t move, couldn’t react, but the whispers of “Isn’t that the Doctor?” reached her ears and she pulled back.

“They, um… you’ve been spotted,” she said, quietly.

He reached up and caressed her cheek, his fingers moving down to cup her chin. “Don’t you want your reward for writing such good lyrics?”

More whispers. “That can’t be the Doctor, why would he be here kissing someone?”

“Really? But he looks so similar…”

“I…” Rose ran her tongue along her lower lip and saw him follow the movement with his gorgeous bronze eyes. Finding his taste on her mouth, she softly moaned. “I want…” She placed her hands on his chest and stood up on her tiptoes, meeting his lips with hers, this time kissing him.

His hand moved to her throat, then back, threading through her hair. Just those two points of contact, his hand and his lips, as he leaned down to her, and then her hands on his firm chest. But it was enough to make her heart want to jump right out of her ribcage.

_What do I want?_ she thought, dreamily. _I want… to choose to love you. But I think maybe… there was no choice._


	3. Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose falls further under the spell of the Doctor, despite her best intentions, and is given a difficult assignment by the recording company.

Rose took the tube and a bus to get to the Flat the next day. She’d taken to thinking of it as “The Flat,” with capital letters, because the place had become so important to her, worthy of its own title. She had intended to sit down and think through some new ideas for songs, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss the Doctor had given her.

A sweet, shallow kiss, lips parted slightly, but he hadn’t stuck his tongue in her mouth, there was none of the slobber she’d suffered from her ex. The Doctor’s lips had been warm and moist, but not unpleasantly so, just enough to leave a taste of him lingering on her mouth afterward… It had sent awareness running through her whole body, the tenderness of it melted her straight to her core.

Speaking of which… She pressed her thighs together as her center began to ache from the memory. It didn’t seem to take much these days to get her all hot and bothered. Rose set her notebook aside on the couch where she was sitting and got up to take a shower in the huge ensuite.

Kissing the Doctor might have felt like a dream, but that didn’t matter to her body. Dream or reality, she still buzzed with excitement under the warm spray, allowing her fingers to wander downward, through her wet curls. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, thinking of the Doctor’s long fingers caressing her, burying into her. He wouldn’t know all the places that made her light up, he’d have to search for them. She could picture that delightedly wicked twinkle in his eyes as he found each one, coaxed each breathless sound from her. Stifling her cry without knowing why, she was alone after all, she came fast, clenching around her fingers, wishing they belonged to him.

She leaned against the cold tile wall as the buzz began to subside, a sigh tumbling out of her. She knew the kiss had just been a reward for her lyrics, but it had _felt_ like more. To her, anyway. She turned off the taps and reached for one of the huge, fluffy, white towels that the bathroom was stocked with. She put her hair up in one and wrapped another around herself. As she walked out into the bedroom, she wondered how she could face the Doctor again without thinking about that kiss…

“Nice bod.”

Her head shot up. The Doctor stood next to the ensuite door, leaning one hand against the wall. He smirked at her, obviously appreciating the view.

“AHHH!” she shrieked.

* * *

“You know I have a key to this place, why were you so surprised?” he called from outside the bedroom. She’d immediately banished him from the room, with a good deal of one-handed pushing and shoving while she clutched her towel for dear life, so she could get dressed again.

She opened the door and glared at him. “I wasn’t expecting you, that’s why,” she said, pressing her damp hair between the towel, then tossing it over a chair. She grabbed the clip hanging from the bottom of her hoodie and twisted her hair up with it carelessly. “And you waited outside the bathroom just to get a peek!”

“Are you saying I could have gotten a peek if I hadn’t?”

She grabbed a pillow off the couch as she passed it and threw it at him. He caught it, of course, chuckling, then followed her into the kitchen, dropping the pillow back where it belonged.

“You’re always sneaking up on me, it’s not nice,” she said.

“I never said I was nice. I do it because of your eyes.”

She looked at him over her shoulder as she grabbed a package of linguini noodles from a shopping bag on the counter. “What about my eyes?”

He grinned. “You’re doing it right now.” He pointed at her face, wiggling his finger between her two eyes. “They get so intense when you glare. Like a wolf. Especially with that golden color.”

She scoffed. “They’re just hazel. Pretty excuses won’t work on me, lover boy. Is work over with for you today?” she asked as she grabbed two saucepans out of a cabinet.

“Yeah,” he said, stretching his arms over his head to grab the lintel of the door. She kept her hands busy so her gaze wouldn’t be drawn to where his t-shirt rode up, exposing the line of dark hair on his lower abdomen. “It’s pretty rare to be off this early. They don’t need me again til tomorrow afternoon.”

She blushed slightly. He was giving up some of his precious free time just to come see her? It gave her a fluttery feeling in her chest.

“What are you doing?” he asked, tilting his chin at the stove.

“Making spaghetti,” she said. “I think better on a full stomach, so I bought some food for the Flat. If I’d known you were going to be here, I would have gotten something better.” She put water on to boil, then checked the refrigerator. “Oh, I forgot to get parmesan.” Ducking under his arms, she left the kitchen and headed for the door. “Watch the water for me, I’ll run down to the corner market and get some.”

Suddenly, he grabbed her around the waist, pulling her close.

“If you want to go,” he said, softly, tilting his head down to speak next to her ear, “you have to get out of my arms.”

She touched his hands where they were locked on his forearms, closing her eyes. “I can’t,” she said, just as quietly.

“Then you’ll have to stay by my side.”

Rose sighed and forgot all about leaving as the Doctor drew her back into the kitchen so she could finish cooking her meal. It felt… comfortable. Like playing house. But at the back of her mind, she knew she was falling more and more under the Doctor’s spell. Whenever she saw a side of him that the fans didn’t get to see, a little more of her resolve not to fall for him was chipped away. Every time he held her, kissed her, told her sweet things, she couldn’t help wishing that they had more than just a professional relationship.

That a kiss was more than just a reward. That an embrace was more than just titillation for her imagination. That he could love her.

It was hoping for too much.

* * *

Rose double checked the address on her mobile to make sure she was at the right place. She’d received an email from the production team to join the band for a meeting today at the recording company, Kasterborous Records. She didn’t know why, but she was excited to be a part of it.

“Excuse me, are you Rose?”

She turned and saw a willowy blue eyed woman with dark hair that seemed to float around her face waiting near the entrance of the building. She was the very picture of style and grace in her spotless white pantsuit. Her perfect Cupid’s bow mouth tilted up in a smile. “I’m right, aren’t I? Nice to meet you.” She came forward and offered Rose her hand for a firm shake. “I’m Romana Trelundar, from the production department. I sent you the email. I’m the producer in charge of Paradox’s next album.”

“Um, hi,” said Rose, struggling to maintain a professional facade in front of such an obviously experienced lady. And Romana didn’t even look like she was in her thirties yet, with her beautifully smooth, pale skin and only the faintest of laugh lines.

The woman didn’t appear bothered by Rose’s brief greeting, she just took her by the arm and began to lead her inside. “I’ve already heard a lot about you from the band members,” she said. “Thank you for writing such great lyrics.”

“Well, that’s my job, yeah?” said Rose with a little smile.

“Indeed,” said Romana, returning it and pressing the button for the lift. “Thank you also for being here. I have a favor to ask you during the meeting.”

Rose looked at her curiously, but Romana didn’t say anything more about the ‘favor’ she needed as they went up in the lift.

The band members and Van Statten were already in the conference room when the two ladies joined them. Romana went at once to the head of the table, leaving Rose to the only seat left, which was next to the Doctor. He smiled at her mildly, and she tried not to blush, pushing down thoughts of spending time with him yesterday.

With a small remote, Romana lowered the lights in the room and started up a program on the computer sitting on the table, projecting the video onto the screen behind her. Rose recognized the footage as cuts from Paradox’s music videos, which she’d been slowly working her way through as inspiration.

“This is the promotional material from the last album,” Romana said, confirming Rose’s thoughts. “Paradox has become even more popular since this was released, so there is a lot riding on the new album. It must be meticulously perfect.”

Rose felt like she should be taking notes. This woman was so bold and direct, looking them all in the eye individually as she spoke. She was quite impressive, but maybe she had to be, in such a male dominated room. And not just the room, but the music business itself. Likewise, Rose had found Donna to be similar, always speaking her mind, no matter what anyone else might think, but Romana was a bit more strategic with her words, a little more diplomatic.

“The new song makes the listeners want to have sex with the band members and I want to create a music video that will reflect that desire.” Romana put her hands on her hips. “I want to make something close to an adult video.” She turned her piercing gaze to Rose. “And I want Rose to do the layout.”

“Me?” she exclaimed, eyes wide.

“You’ve already proven you have a great imagination, and you wrote the song, so who better?” said Romana. “We’ll hire the models. Gorgeous people. And have them act out the love scene.”

Rose swallowed hard. Romana wanted her to plan a love scene between the Doctor and another woman? She glanced at the Doctor to gauge his reaction, but his face was impassive, unreadable. Romana’s eyes flicked to him.

“What’s the matter, Doctor? Don’t you approve of my idea for the music video?” she asked.

Instantly, a slow smile spread across his lips. “I think it’s a great idea. Very interesting.”

“Good,” said Romana. “Next, we need to talk about the recording schedule--”

Rose stared at the table top, the words fading into the background. She didn’t want to picture the Doctor making love to someone else, whether it was a model in a music video, or otherwise. When he’d held her so tightly yesterday, when he’d kissed her and talked about fate the day before… It couldn’t have been because he only thought of her as a work colleague, could it?

She sat there in silence until the meeting was over, then numbly got to her feet to leave, but Van Statten called her over before she could slip out. Romana and the members of the band left the room while Rose joined Van Statten near the conference table.

“I want you to write your lyrics under a male pseudonym,” he said without preamble.

“What? Why?” she asked, drawing her eyebrows down.

“Paradox’s fans are mostly female,” said Van Statten. “If people found out that Paradox’s erotic lyrics were written by a twenty year old girl, their image would be destroyed.” He made a cutting gesture with one hand. “This is just business, Rose, you understand?”

“Yeah,” she said, turning away so he wouldn’t see her expression. She felt so drained by the whole meeting, she didn’t want Van Statten to see how much everything had affected her. She almost bumped right into Romana on her way out.

The producer closed the door after Rose had left and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you sure you want that girl to direct the music video? She doesn’t seem to have much confidence, and yet you insisted that I assign her the task.”

“That’s why I want her to do it,” he said with a sly smile. “The sooner she realizes that she shouldn’t be in this business, the better.”

* * *

“Rose! Rose, wait!”

She’d left the recording company as quickly as she could, not wanting anyone to ask her if something was wrong. All it would take was one look at her face and then she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to hold her emotions back. She felt so ridiculous, so… young! Inexperienced and out of her depth. She started walking faster when she heard the Doctor’s voice calling after her. She thought they’d all gone. She didn’t want him to see her like this.

But when he grabbed her arm and swung her around, she couldn’t prevent two fat tears from falling down her cheeks. He stared at her, stunned, as if he didn’t know what to say.

“Um…” She brushed one away, trying to smile. “I think some dirt blew into my eyes or something--”

His eyes narrowed, their piercing depths seeing right through her flimsy excuse, right into her heart, which was racing in her throat. She felt so utterly stupid!

Before she could try to explain her reaction, he grabbed her chin and leaned down, licking the second tear away. She froze, too shocked to know what to do. Gently, he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking away the tracks of her tears.

“Come to the Graham Norton recording session tonight,” he said. “I want to sing for you.”

He walked away before she could ask what he meant.

* * *

The band were only the musical entertainment for the show, so they were pre-recording their segment, with only the crew as the audience. Rose stood to one side, a badge marked “Paradox Crew” clipped to her jacket, watching them do their sound check. She wondered what it was the Doctor wanted to sing for her. A provocative song, perhaps? To inspire her? She could use that. Some naughty thoughts to stir up ideas for the music video. It seemed so cruel… It was all for the job, but Rose could only think about the Doctor and being with him.

She gave herself a shake. She couldn’t let herself get depressed over this, that was silly. To moon about over a guy, even one as amazing as the Doctor, talk about pathetic! She had to be better about this.

Closing her eyes as the band took their marks, she hoped for some good inspiration for the video.

“We now present the acoustic version of one of Paradox’s new numbers: _Song To a Wolf!”_

Rose opened her eyes in surprise. She hadn’t heard this one before, and the Doctor hadn’t mentioned it to her. Rory was playing a keyboard instead of his bass today, the song was softer, gentler than their other music. And then the Doctor began to sing…

“Let me touch your mind, what I want to say goes deeper than what mere words can convey. I seek your golden eyes in the dark, there’s an ache in my heart that I can’t cut away. The world wants to drown me on this painful night, I’m swept on your shore, but I can’t find the light. Don’t let my darkness return.”

Rose listened in confusion. It was a love song, it was blatantly clear. He reached out, pleading to the camera, every expression he gave was of a man hopelessly in love. If the Doctor was singing this for her, like he’d said, why was it a love song? Why weren’t the lyrics erotic and sensual?

“Will you stand guard over me, my wolf girl? Only your love sets me free, my wolf girl. You made me believe in you, for the changes in me, and I can be the wind at your side as you run. Together, one day, we will run, my wolf girl.”

She closed her eyes because she couldn’t watch his emotional face anymore, clutching her jacket in a fist over her chest. Listening alone was almost more painful. That remark he’d made about her eyes being like a wolf’s and now this song, it was making her feel like the two of them were-- She shook her head. She shouldn’t think like that. False hope would only hurt more.

“Though I may be broken, when you are lonely my arms will be wide open. I’ll protect you and hold you tight, breathe a sigh for our love as we run for the light of the moon.”

_No,_ she thought, firmly. _Whatever his motives for this, to the Doctor, I’m just a lyricist._

After the set was finalized, he found her toward the back of the studio where she would be out of the way. She was coming to recognize the cadence of his footsteps, that tiny tingle of awareness on the back of her neck when he was near. She didn’t startle this time when he said her name, nor did she turn to look at him.

“It’s a good song,” she said, trying to keep her tone business-like. “That was the first time I’ve heard that one. But it didn’t really help me come up with any ideas for the video. It’s really different from your other songs.”

“I sang that just for you.”

She stopped, then turned around. He had his hands in his pockets, his stance almost shy, so unlike the confident man she’d come to know, but his eyes were direct as ever, trained sharply on her face.

“It had nothing to do with the music video. At all.” He closed the distance between them, taking one hand out of his pocket to wrap an arm around her, holding her close, her head against his clavicle. “I did it because you were crying.”

_No!_ she thought. _I don’t want to complicate my work life with my personal life!_ Rose brought her hand up to his chest, intending to push him away, but found herself clutching his shirt instead. Letting herself fall even further was such a bad idea, but she couldn’t seem to help it. Her heart wasn’t listening to her head.

She looked up at him, at his dark eyes, his sweet smile, his great hair, and his ridiculous freckles. _You’re going to lose everything,_ her head whispered, right before she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

When she opened her mouth, seeking entry to his with her tongue, he pulled back, but not away. “Rose, what are you--”

“Do you only see me as someone you work with?” she demanded.

He blinked in surprise, then backed her up against the nearby wall, taking her lips again in a bruising kiss, as one of his legs wedged between hers. They were slightly apart from the rest of the crew, but they were still out in the open. Anyone could see them. But Rose really didn’t care. She shivered as his tongue swept her mouth, leading the kiss. When his right hand traveled up to cup her breast through her clothes, she moaned softly, covering his hand with hers, encouraging him to squeeze and knead her flesh. A purr-like growl came from the back of his throat, making her shiver again, and when his left hand trailed up her thigh to cup her mound through her jeans, she couldn’t stop the shaking.

He paused for a moment, looking down at her. Her eyes shut tight, her whole body trembling. With a sigh, he stepped away, raking a hand through his hair.

“You should go home.”

Her eyes snapped open, feeling like she’d been doused in cold water. “What?” She took a step forward, but he turned away from her, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“No, don’t--” He exhaled sharply through his nose. “Just go home. Do you need me to drive you?”

“So, that’s it,” she said in a small voice. “You need my virgin imagination. If I’m not a virgin anymore, then I’m worthless to you. How old fashioned!” Her laugh was short, humorless, and watery. “I’m sorry.” At a loss for what else to say, she ran for the exit. “I’m sorry!”

“Rose!” He started to run after her, but a couple of crew members carrying set equipment cut him off from her path. By the time they were out of the way, Rose was no where in sight.

She dashed tears from her cheeks angrily as she hurried toward the tube station. She wasn’t angry over his rejection, she was angry at herself, for not listening to her good sense. She was _just_ Paradox’s lyricist, that’s _all_. The Doctor teased her imagination with a purpose, and it wasn’t to get her in bed, far from it. Why would he? All of his previous girlfriends had been pop princesses or famous actresses. He wouldn’t lower himself to being with some girl off the estate.

It was the song, she realized. _My wolf girl…_ The lyrics were still wrapped around her heart. It had foolishly made her feel like she’d had a chance.

* * *

Rose woke up the next day with a renewed sense of purpose. She might be a nobody, she might be from a council estate, she might have no A-levels, and she might be young and inexperienced, but she had a job to do and she was going to do it the best she could. The Doctor had made it clear he only wanted her for her brain. Fine. She wasn’t going to waste anymore tears on that prat.

Rose got out her notebook and began writing down ideas and stream of consciousness thoughts. She just had to be strong and present her proposal confidently, no matter what they thought of her.

At the next band meeting, with the production crew also in attendance this time, Rose handed out neatly printed copies of her proposal. If she was going to be a member of this group, she was going to show that she was just as valuable as any of them.

“This is my idea for the music video,” Rose said in a clear voice, doing her best to imitate Romana’s direct stare. “It will show Paradox going into a hotel, and then inside the rooms, making love to the different models.”

Everyone was looking at the proposal she’d drawn up and quietly commenting here or there between themselves, but they all still appeared to be listening to her. So far, so good, even when Mickey whispered to Rory, “She has me doing it in a bathtub!”

“We’ll show the band arriving together, then have separate sections for each of them. This will allow you to feature each member, to highlight them on their own. Hire the models you think will work best, but,” she paused to gain everyone’s attention, “I don’t want you to show the models’ faces.”

“Are you crazy?” Van Statten burst out, flinging his copy of the proposal on the table. “Anyone we hire would be a top model, of course we would have to show their faces!”

“Henry, shut up,” Romana broke in, glaring at him. “I want to hear her reasons.”

Grateful for Romana’s help, Rose went on, though her confidence had wavered a bit. “Everyone has a preference for a certain band member, someone who is their ‘favorite,’” she said. “Everyone also wishes they could be beautiful like a model. If we don’t show the models’ faces, then the fans can imagine that _they_ are the models, that _they_ are the ones who are with the members of the band. Show the models’ faces and they stand out too much, the fans would be jealous of them.” She looked down at the paper in front of her, not wanting to catch the Doctor’s eye. “If I loved Paradox… I wouldn’t want to see someone else being with the person I liked. That’s just the way the fans will feel.”

“It’s so obvious!” Romana exclaimed with a smile. “I can’t believe we never thought of it before. Let’s make it happen!”

They started talking about a director and what the budget should be like. Rose’s stomach turned over in excitement. They liked her idea! She’d done it! She glanced at the Doctor to see what he thought.

Her smile faded. He had one elbow on the table, leaning his forehead into his hand, his fingers digging into his scalp. His jaw was tightly clenched, showing the dimple in his cheek. Why did he look so upset? She’d never seen him look that way. Did he not like her idea? Why wasn’t he saying anything about it, protesting or… something?

Romana wanted Rose on set when they began filming, since it was her idea. If the director wanted to change anything stylistically or had any questions about the scenarios, Rose would be on hand to clarify things. She managed to get through the days of filming Rory, Jack, Donna, and Mickey with minimal blushing. Actually, Donna’s session had been fairly amusing, with her shouting at her model, “OI! HANDS!” followed by a loud slap. The director had to spend twenty minutes calming her down and trying to get her to accept that it was the model’s _job_ to get “handsy.”

“I’m not having any of that, sunshine!” she declared, wrapping her robe tighter around her and stomping off to the dressing room.

Rose had followed her and they reached a compromise. Instead of Donna being naked and the model being all over her, they’d dress Donna up in a sexy black leather number and focus the shots on close ups of the model’s lips kissing the ankles of her boots and her running a riding crop over his back. The director was overjoyed and declared Rose a miracle worker. She was just happy to help.

But now they were filming the Doctor’s solo scene. The models were talking among themselves excitedly, apparently the girl who’d been selected to perform with him was a huge fan. There was a liberal amount of quiet squealing from that side of the room when he walked in and removed his robe, leaving him wearing only a pair of tight fitting leather trousers. Rose’s heart pounded as the model also took off her robe, revealing her in nothing but lacy knickers.

Rose looked away as the director called for action. Why had she agreed to plan this video? Her heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. She tried to remember, this was just a job to her, the Doctor was also just doing a job, it didn’t mean anything to either one of them except a paycheck in the end… When the director called cut a few seconds into the playback, Rose looked back in surprise.

“Doctor, we need you to lip sync the words! What’s wrong?”

He tilted his head. “She’s not doing it for me.”

A collective gasp went up around the crew and the poor model’s face turned bright red.

Romana stepped forward, hands on her hips. “Doctor, we don’t have time for you to get turned on,” she said, irritated. “Part of your job is to _act!_ And preferably not like an idiot!”

“There won’t be any emotion in this video if you stick me with someone I don’t have any feelings for,” he said, walking off the ‘honeymoon suite’ set and directly over to Rose.

Her face reddened as he unzipped the front of her hoodie and tugged the garment down her shoulders. “What are you doing?” she asked in a shaky voice, her eyes darting to the crew members around them.

“Getting you ready for the shoot,” he said, then smiled at her. “You’re going to be the model.”

“Me?” she squeaked.

From the sidelines, she heard Donna mutter, “Oh, God, really? As if this wasn’tembarrassing enough… I’m leaving. I don’t need to see my brother make a fool of us.”

The Doctor paid no attention to his sister departing the set, or the angry model doing the same, his attention was all on Rose and the steady removal of her clothing.

“Doctor, I can’t do this,” Rose hissed to him, clutching her t-shirt when he would have pulled it over her head. “I’m not a model, I don’t look like… you know…” She liked her body and thought herself attractive, but she was still a good four inches shorter than the smallest model and her breasts and rear were generously rounded. She wouldn’t look right next to the Doctor on camera.

He cupped her cheek. “Rose, you are beautiful,” he said with aching sincerity. “Help me do this.”

She knew it was insane, but when he asked for her help like she was the only one who could make the video look real with him… She just couldn’t refuse. She let him take her shirt and help her out of her bra as she wiggled out of her jeans. She was just glad she’d worn her bikini style underwear that day! And thank God they weren’t showing the models’ faces, she could just _hear_ what her mum would have said… Well, _after_ the incoherent screeching died down.

He led her onto the set and positioned her in front of him, her back to the camera. He kissed her cheek, her neck, her shoulder, murmuring her name. Rose’s mind was a blank. She wasn’t thinking about work, or about the lyrics. She was only thinking about the now, about being in the Doctor’s arms.

_I don’t know what I’m doing,_ she thought. _But I know that I love you._

Giving herself over to the emotion, she ran her lips along his collarbone and the Doctor looked up at the camera with a shudder.

Romana actually blushed. “Wh-what are you doing, standing around?” she barked at the cameramen and director. “Start the filming! Roll the playback! And make sure you don’t get any shots of Rose’s face!”

“Y-yes, ma’am!”

This time, the Doctor didn’t just mouth the lyrics, he sang along to his own recording, all while he caressed Rose and she stroked his skin with her hands and followed the invisible trails with her mouth. Neither the director nor Romana stopped the production. The passion on the Doctor’s face and in his every action was breathtaking, never had they seen him so invested in a shoot.

After a few minutes, Romana stepped away from the set, content to let the director do his job. She found Van Statten sitting in a folding chair and looking over his tablet. She sat down next to him, wrapping her arms around her waist.

“You know, Henry,” she said quietly, “when people used to tell me that the Doctor was very erotic, I didn’t see it. But they’re not wrong. When he started the scene again with Rose, that intense look on his face--” She shivered. “I finally got it.”

She glanced at the man at her side. “When you said you wanted her on this project, I was seriously worried that you’d lost it. Because I had no idea what Rose could bring to the table. She’s a complete outsider in the business. But now I understand.” She looked back at the couple on set. “The Doctor’s sexual qualities shine because of her. Not just because of her lyrics. He’s able to feel and act this way because Rose is the one who brings it out in him.”

Van Statten said nothing. He just scowled and got up to leave the set.

One of the regular crew members came over to Romana and leaned down to whisper, “Rose and the Doctor… are they seeing each other? They look so enthralled!”

The producer just smiled enigmatically. “No comment.”


	4. Relations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor puts his cards on the table and shares a bit of his past with Rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Discussion of rape in this chapter.

“And cut!”

Rose’s eyes snapped open as the director’s voice broke the sensual spell the Doctor had woven around her. She stepped back from him, reflexively crossing her arms over her bare chest, realizing anew that she was almost completely naked in front of the whole production crew. Somehow, having forgotten about it made it worse.

“Good job, you two!” the director said, turning to the monitor to look at the footage. “You look great, Rose, very sexy!”

Her face heated. She knew he meant it as a compliment. She wasn’t a professional model, she didn’t have any experience being on camera, but all she could think of what how embarrassing it was. Not just being naked, she would eventually get over that, but that they’d all stood there and watched her as she and the Doctor had kissed and fondled each other. They’d witnessed something that should have been private and special. She rushed off the set, grabbing up her clothes as she hurried to the nearest dressing room she could find.

Slamming the door behind her, it was blissfully empty. With shaking hands, she pulled on her jeans, bra, and shirt, then stood and fiddled with her hoodie. Naked in front of all those people while embracing the Doctor… How could she have done such a thing? Had she completely lost her mind?

She sighed. No, she knew why she’d done it. Because the Doctor had chosen her over the model, and it had made her happy. He’d wanted _her_ help and no one else’s. But it hadn’t _meant_ anything and instead of that bringing relief, she only felt hurt.

The door opened behind her, but she didn’t turn. That prickle of awareness was back and she knew it was him. In the next moment, his voice confirmed it.

“Was it a mistake?” He paused, waiting for her answer, then clarified, “To ask you to do that?”

She hugged herself, curling her fingers over her shoulders. “Just… just forget about it,” she said in a small voice. She was trying to be professional about the whole thing. It was for the music video, so it was just a part of work, even if it didn’t fall under the category of lyricist by any stretch of the imagination. “I’m happy to help with the production.”

Not wanting him to see her upset, she moved to duck past him, but he grabbed her arm, swinging her around to face him. She gasped when she saw how angry he was, his eyes full of fire, his teeth clenched.

“Do you really think I’m only doing things like this with you because of _work?”_ he demanded. He grabbed her other wrist and backed her up against the wall.

She winced, he was holding her so tight. “Doctor, stop, you’re hurting--”

He let go of her, but slammed his hands on the wall on either side of her, caging her in, leaning down over her. “How long do you intend to be oblivious?” he all but growled.

“To what?” she asked in a high voice.

“To the fact that I’m in love with you,” he said, anguished. He dropped his head, but not before she’d seen the truth in his eyes. Her jaw dropped. He couldn’t mean that!

“But… after the Graham Norton recording-- we were…” She swallowed. “You told me to go home.”

“When you kissed me, I thought you understood how I felt,” he said. “But then you started shaking, so--” He straightened, taking a step back from her, dragging a hand through his hair. “I would never force you, Rose. Ever.”

“But you never said you loved me!” she said.

He tugged on his left ear, looking away from her. “The song,” he said after a pause.

“The wolf song?” she asked, drawing her brows together in confusion. “I thought you were just trying to comfort me.”

“I wrote that song for you, Rose,” he said, facing her again. “Not for anyone else. It’s your song.” Reaching out, he touched her cheek softly, tracing his thumb along the apple. “My wolf girl,” he said, tenderly.

The words to the song came back to her in a rush… No wonder hearing it had tied her up in knots, it was so obvious. He’d written the love song for her and she’d talked herself out of believing it.

“I’m not a nice man,” he said, cupping her face in both hands now. “I’m the kind of man who’ll do anything I need to in order to get my way. But you had me running in circles.” He smiled. “I guess it makes sense. You’re the first woman whose heart I actually wanted to capture. I didn’t want to use force to get it. I wanted you to fall for me.”

He dropped his hands from her when she giggled. “Rose, I’m pouring my soul out here, d’you mind not giggling?”

It only made her laugh harder. At his put-out expression, she stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Doctor, _you’re_ the one who’s oblivious!” she said, happily. With her lips to his ear, she whispered, “My heart’s been yours since the moment I heard your voice.”

She rocked back on her heels, pleased at the astonishment on his face. When he smiled, she melted. When he kissed her, it felt like the start of something. An adventure.

Rose had always wanted to have a sort of adventure, that’s what being Paradox’s lyricist had felt like. But this was different. Better with two.

* * *

The new video, once released, was aired constantly. The song was requested all the time on the radio stations. It took no time at all before it was number one and it remained at the top for weeks. With the band being so popular, Rose and the Doctor had no time to see each other, between all the interviews and performances they were recording. Despite enjoying their texts, Rose had decided to go to the next television interview, just so she could see him.

She stood awkwardly next to the snack area, drinking bottled water, as the crew moved around her. She hoped she wasn’t turning into one of those clingy girlfriends by doing this and wrinkled her nose at the thought.

_Girlfriend…_ Was that even what she was? She and the Doctor had shared a kiss since admitted they loved each other, they ended each phone conversation with “love you,” but he’d never called her his ‘girlfriend.’ _And we’re not lovers yet either,_ she thought with a shy smile and a tiny blush. They hadn’t had an opportunity to take things further.

Not yet. She shivered.

“Rose!”

She turned and smiled as everyone but the Doctor filed out of the dressing room area. She accepted hugs from them all, happy to see them after the prolonged separation.

“It’s nice to see you again,” said Jack. “We’ve been missing you!”

“Well, it’s hardly your fault that you’re so popular.” She considered. “Actually, I guess it is.”

They laughed.

“You’re popular now, too, Rose,” said Donna. “Have you been reading the trade papers?”

She hadn’t, even though she knew she should, since she was a part of the business now. “No, why?”

The band members exchanged glances. “Most of the stories talking about the new song feature a great deal of speculation on the lyricist,” said Jack. “Because you’re using a pen name and no one’s ever heard of you. A lot of recording companies are trying to track ‘Tyler Prentice’ down.”

Rose had decided to use a combination of her last name and her mother’s maiden name as her pseudonym. This was the first she’d heard about other companies being interested in her. “Why?”

“Because they want you to write songs for their groups, too,” said Mickey. “They asked for telephone numbers, all your contact info. But of course, you’re the best kept secret in Paradox, so no one can tell them anything.”

“And since it’s a secret, that only made them want to find out more,” said Rory.

“Ha! If they found out the girl with the Doctor in the music video is the lyricist, the news would probably explode!” said Donna, laughing. “Not to mention all the fangirls’ heads.”

Rose shuddered to think it.

“Ah! There you are,” said Jack, looking back the way they’d come. “Your hair finally on straight?”

“Jack, you remember that time I punched you in the face?” said the Doctor, striding forward in a tight brown pinstriped suit. Rose felt her heart speed up, he looked positively edible. She wanted to grab him by the tie that was sprinkled with little blue flowers and pull him down for a snog right there.

He stopped when he saw her and smiled. “Hello.”

She pretended that she didn’t know the smile on her face was big and stupid. “Hello.”

“Been a while.”

“Yeah.”

The band members looked from the Doctor to Rose with their eyes narrowed. “Okay, what’s going on here?” Donna wanted to know, pointing at the two of them.

Jack grabbed the drummer around her shoulders and steered her toward the area where their instruments were being set up. “Come on, Donna, I think we should go over the tempo change…”

Mickey and Rory followed after them, with Donna’s protestations fading into the background, leaving Rose alone with the Doctor. She looked down, fidgeting with her hands, suddenly shy to be with him after contenting herself with texts and late night phone calls for so long.

“Something the matter?” he asked, leading her over to some folding chairs with a hand at the small of her back. “You look a bit gloomy for being London’s newest celebrity.”

She scoffed. “The only reason they want to know anything about me is because of Paradox’s fame. It’s because of you that the song and the video are such hot topics. I’ve just been riding your coattails.”

“But it’s not like you didn’t do anything, right?” he said. He pulled her into an awkward seated hug, but the warmth of it still comforted her. “Have more confidence in yourself, alright? Remember, I believe in you. You should, too.”

As the call came for two minutes to air, the Doctor stood up and made to join the band. He looked back and Rose waved with a smile.

He ran to her and claimed her mouth for a brief, but sweeping kiss. “I don’t care what everyone else is saying,” he said, his breath hot against her lips. He swept her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear, and smiled. “I am so proud of you.”

The sweet statement almost brought tears to her eyes as he hurried off again. No matter what happened, if people kept liking her lyrics, or she fell from favor with the press, it wasn’t important. It was enough that the Doctor was proud of her, and he was right. She _should_ have more confidence. She could draw her strength from him, the man with the power to mesmerize millions.

That was _her_ boyfriend.

“You were great in the music video.”

Rose jerked her attention to her left, where Van Statten had walked up beside her. Despite his words, he didn’t look happy, frowning at her with his arms crossed.

“But don’t go thinking this secures your spot with Paradox,” he went on. “If you screw anything up, I will not hesitate to fire you.”

“I understand,” Rose said, turning to face him fully. A determined smile spread across her lips. “Next time, I’ll do even better!” Because she had the Doctor’s strength as her own.

The surprised expression on Van Statten’s face was extremely gratifying and he gave her a grudging smile. “I look forward to that,” he said, before turning and walking away.

When the band finished and went to the dressing room to change, Rose went and poured coffee for each of them, securing a cardboard tray from one of the craft services people. She knew the band had people assigned to fetch and carry for them, but she still wanted to help out in a small way. She laughed as Jack ruffled her hair and called her a good little roadie, and Donna smacked him on the arm and told him the correct response was “thank you.”

While they all fixed their drinks with the amount of creamer and sugar they preferred, Rose turned to the Doctor, who was sitting over by the small telly. “Doctor, do you want a coffee, too?” she asked, but he was watching so intently, she had to call his name two more times to get his attention.

“What?” he said, looking up then getting to his feet. “Coffee? Nah, I’m hungry. Let’s go get chips.”

“Okay…” He put his arm around her, leading her back toward the others. Everyone began to argue at once over where they should go to eat. She looked over her shoulder at the telly, but it was just a news channel. She wondered what had his attention so riveted.

The news presenter was saying, “Harold Saxon, the only son of media mogul Rassilon Saxon, has just caught everyone’s attention with the news that Masterworks Productions has purchased a London television studio. Mr. Saxon’s father has reportedly turned over control of the studio to his son, with the promise of releasing more of his business to Mr. Saxon’s control, should the plan to expand the media empire prove fruitful.” The woman smiled and added, “When asked if there was anything else Mr. Saxon planned on doing in London, he’d responded, quote, ‘There is a singer I’d really like to see.’”

* * *

“You’re going to a banquet tonight?” said Rose. That was a bit disappointing, she’d just gotten to the Flat and had been hoping they could finally have a bit of private time.

The Doctor didn’t look too happy about it either. He was sitting on the couch with one ankle crossed over his opposite knee, a casual pose, but his whole body appeared tense. “I didn’t want to go, but Kasterborous said I don’t have a choice. The whole band is going together.” He gave a little shrug. “Still, it won’t be all bad, since I’ll have you as my date.”

Her expression lit up. “I can come?” She scrambled up over the arm of the couch to plop down next to him. “Will there be a lot of celebrities there?”

“I don’t know,” he said, now looking vaguely uncomfortable.

“This is fantastic!” she said, bouncing a bit on the cushion. “I wonder if I can get their autographs so I can show all my friends. I haven’t been able to tell them about my job, so this will be--”

“Forget it,” he said, suddenly standing up and going to the kitchen. “You can’t come. I’ve changed my mind.”

“What? Why not?” she demanded, chasing after him.

He turned back, his eyes flashing dangerously. “You’ll stay here by yourself and work!”

She couldn’t help a small pout as he went to pour water into the electric kettle. Then a thought a occurred to her. “Wait a minute. Are you… jealous?”

A clatter in the sink as he dropped the plastic kettle. He glared at her over his shoulder, but his cheeks were pink. “So what if I am?” he asked, clearly irritated at having been found out.

Her heart swelled with love and she danced over to him, poking him in the ribs. “You are! You’re jealous!” she sing-songed with a huge smile. “You want to be my only favorite celebrity!”

With a growl, he grabbed her, one hand around her shoulders and one hand at the small of her back, sweeping her to the floor, one of his legs between hers. His eyes were impossibly dark. “You are a bad girl, Rose Tyler, for making me feel this way.”

She moaned as his mouth went to her neck.

“Mmm, you smell like soap,” he murmured, his lips beneath her ear, his tongue darting out to taste her. “Did my dirty girl have a shower before coming here?”

When he nipped at her earlobe and slid his hand under her shirt, she arched her back, leaning up into his touch. She wondered if he could tell that her bra was brand new, that she’d changed the perfume she wore. That she’d been anticipating this moment ever since he’d said he loved her.

The front door banged open. “Doctor!” Donna called out cheerfully. “Are you ready to go?” She and the other members of Paradox froze as they caught sight of the Doctor on top of Rose on the floor of the kitchen.

“I’ll be there when we’re done,” the Doctor snapped over his shoulder, making Rose go completely red in the face. His hand was still up her shirt!

Jack was nodding his approval, while Rory and Mickey were trying not to look, and Donna just looked disgusted. “Really?” she said. “Don’t you have any sense of decency? You make _food_ in there! Ugh!” She turned, ushering the men out. “We’ll go on ahead, don’t be too late!”

Rose pushed at the Doctor’s chest, even as the door closed behind the band. “Get off me!”

“Why? They’re gone.”

“Doctor! I said no!” She was far too mortified to feel turned on anymore and climbed out from under him.

He pouted, but didn’t argue again.

* * *

The Doctor had been reluctant, but eventually agreed to take Rose along to the banquet. They went to the hotel the event was taking place at and he sent Amy a text at a stoplight to meet them there. Amy, Rory’s long time girlfriend, had been helping the band with hair and makeup for years, so Rose trusted her to make sure she looked the part of a rock idol’s date. She’d even brought along one of Donna’s gowns that had once been worn to an award ceremony. A long black form-fitting number with one shoulder strap and a slit cut to above her knee, it felt like silk on her skin. When Amy finished her makeup (with a lot less mascara than Rose normally went for) and the artfully tousled hairstyle with large, loose curls, Rose certainly felt glamourous. Ready to go down and stand proudly at the Doctor’s side.

“Why aren’t you going to the banquet with Rory?” Rose asked as she put on a pair of dangly clear crystal earrings.

Amy wrinkled her nose as she put away her brushes and hair spray. “I do go to some events,” she said in her lilting Scottish accent, “but I tend to stay away from the formal ones. Not much fun, really.”

Rose couldn’t imagine that. All of it was still new to her, so everything was exciting. She thanked Amy profusely, then left the hotel room, hurrying toward the lift, aware that she’d kept the Doctor waiting a long time for her. Turning the corner she crashed into someone coming the opposite direction, their arms reflexively coming around her when she would have toppled backward in the tall heels she was wearing.

She leaned back, catching a flash of coppery bronze eyes, and she smiled. “Doctor, you came to look for me--” She blinked. No, this wasn’t the Doctor, this man was a bit shorter, with neat brown hair. She stumbled away from him. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” she blurted out, ducking around him.

The man didn’t try to stop her. Something twinkling on the carpet near his foot caught his eye. He smirked when he saw it was a crystal earring. He picked it up.

“Just like Cinderella,” he murmured.

Rose caught her breath in the lift. How embarrassing, to mistake that man for the Doctor. It was just that his eyes had looked so similar. Almost identical, really, so there had been a second of recognition that eclipsed the rest of his appearance. Once she’d seen him fully, however, there was no comparison. And plenty of people had brown eyes. _She_ had brown eyes!

She smiled. No, her eyes were golden.

When she walked into the ballroom, her gaze fell instantly on the Doctor, dressed in an immaculate black tuxedo. Her heart pounded. He was so handsome! Even in a huge room full of well dressed people and celebrities, he stood out, his presence was so strong. Suddenly, the prospect of meeting other famous people had completely left her mind.

He saw her then. Smiled. Utterly devastating. He held out his hand and it was an invisible cord, pulling her to his side.

“Let me get a better look at you,” he said, slipping his arm around her. His eyes were heavy-lidded as he looked her over. “Mmm… beautiful. Just what I asked her for.” He leaned down, burying his face in her hair as he whispered, “Clothes that are easy to take off and hair that begs to be touched.”

He grinned when she blushed and pouted when she slapped his hand away from the single strap on her dress. He stopped his playful teasing when the benefactor of the event, Harold Saxon, was introduced to the crowd. Rose gasped as she recognized the man she’d run into in the hall upstairs.

The Doctor glanced at her. “Do you know him?”

“No, but I bumped into him when I left the room. I almost mistook him for you for a second,” she said with a little laugh. “Which is stupid, because you don’t look a thing alike.”

“Thank you for that warm welcome,” Harold said into the microphone with a smooth smile. “You’re all here because you’ve just been accepted into the Masterworks Productions family. That’s a nice way of saying we bought you out,” he added in a stage whisper, making a chuckle rumble through the audience. “That was just the first of many steps to broaden our media empire. We’ll be moving all recording companies under the Saxon Sound banner and utilizing our Archangel satellite network to broadcast.”

“Wow, then Paradox would be heard all over the world?” said Rose, impressed. She looked up at the Doctor. “What do you--” She stopped, shocked by the angry expression on his face. “Doctor?” She touched his arm, but he just shook his head, the dimple standing out in his jaw.

After the speech, the fancy buffet was opened for the guests. Rose tried not to stare at the trays of caviar, lobster, and petit filet mignon. It was definitely a far cry from fish and chips. While the Doctor moved quickly, loading his little plate with nibbles, she hovered with a glass of champagne.  She was unsure what to try and certain she shouldn’t get a little of everything, even though that was what she wanted to do. She didn’t think it would be good manners. Finally, she took a thin cracker spread with tiny black caviar beads and took a small bite.

She regretted it at once. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but the briny taste of sea water hadn’t been it. Forcing herself to swallow it down, she chased it with the rest of her champagne. A chuckle nearby caught her attention and she turned, intending to tell the Doctor to stop laughing at her.

Her words died when she saw, not the Doctor, but Harold Saxon standing next to her. He looked very amused at her dislike of the caviar.

“Sorry,” he said, holding up one hand. “I shouldn’t laugh. It is an acquired taste. Your reaction was just so honest. It’s refreshing.”

She looked down, trying not to be embarrassed. He was being very gracious about it, after all. “What do you think I should do with the rest of it?” she asked, indicating the half of the cracker she hadn’t eaten.

“May I?” He held out his hand, palm up.

She stared at him, but he just waited patiently. At a loss, she carefully set it on his upturned hand. He glanced around them, then casually walked over to the potted palm tree near the end of the buffet, and tossed the tidbit into it behind his back. She couldn’t help but laugh as he came back over to her, pulling a handkerchief from an inner pocket to wipe off his hand.

“So happy I could be of service,” he said, smiling. “By the way--”

“Rose, we’re leaving.” The Doctor was suddenly at her side, taking her elbow in a firm grip. Though he’d addressed her, he was staring at Harold, his brows drawn down.

“We were just talking, John,” Harold said, but his smile had changed. It was no longer so open and friendly, it had gone cool and calculating. Rose gaped at him for using the Doctor’s real name.

“I’m not called that anymore, _Harry,”_ the Doctor said in a low, warning voice.

“Oh, I’m well aware,” Harold said, tucking his handkerchief away, appearing completely unconcerned by the Doctor’s tone. “But would you really make your _brother_ call you by such a ridiculous title? A title you didn’t even earn?”

The Doctor leaned in, eyes blazing with fury. “You’ve _never_ been a brother to me!” he spat through clenched teeth. Protectively wrapping an arm around Rose, he turned away, taking her with him.

He didn’t speak again until they were back in the hotel room. Distractedly, he pulled at the edges of his bow tie, untying it and letting it hang loose around his neck. “You didn’t get to eat, did you? Do you want to order room service?” he asked, going to the coffee maker on the sideboard as he pulled off his jacket.

She watched him fill the coffee pot with water from the tap. “Doctor,” she began hesitantly. “How are you related to Harold Saxon?”

The glass pot dropped into the sink, but didn’t shatter. He leaned heavily on the counter and didn’t look at her. “Why do you ask?” he said in a flat voice.

“Because I care about you,” she said. “Because I want to know more about you. Can you really be my boyfriend when I know so little about who you are?”

He paused for such a long time, Rose thought he might not answer her.

“Harry’s father raped my mother,” he said at last. No emotion, just fact, but the bluntness of it stole Rose’s breath. “She worked as a singer in a club. She was beautiful… Looked a lot like Donna does now, ginger hair, bright blue eyes.” He poured the water out of the coffee pot as he spoke, like he needed to keep his hands busy. “Rassilon saw her while he was in town on business. He bribed one of the waiters at the club…”

He was silent another moment, his free hand gripping the counter so hard, his knuckles turned white. “She became pregnant. But she didn’t know whose child it was, Rassilon’s or her husband’s.” He set down the coffee pot, but still wouldn’t look at her. “She decided to have the child. If it looked like Rassilon, she’d give it to an orphanage and tell her husband the child had died. So, when I was born and had brown hair and blue eyes like the man she’d married, she was relieved, and told him I was his.”

He ran his hand over his hair, tugging at the back of it with a sigh. “Then my eyes changed from that milky blue that so many infants have. Not blue, like theirs, but dark, like Rassilon’s. So her husband divorced her. And she lived a life of isolation for years. With me.”

Rose pressed her hands to her mouth, suppressing a sob, even as her eyes welled with tears. Only too vividly could she picture tiny John, unable to understand why his mother hated him for his bronze eyes. With two running steps, she threw her arms around him, clutching the front of his dress shirt and pressing her face between his shoulder blades, not caring if she got makeup on the pressed white linen.

“I love your eyes!” she said, fiercely. “Beautiful, clear, straightforward-- I love them!”

His hands came over hers and he lifted them up to his mouth, kissing her fingers. “If it’s the price I had to pay, to be able to meet you,” he said, softly. “Then I’m glad to have paid it.”

He turned in her arms and she caught a glimpse of the dark misery he kept hidden from the world right before he kissed her, holding her like he never wanted to let go. She would do anything to never have him feel it ever again.

His kiss turned hungry and she let him lead her, his tongue skillfully sliding and teasing hers. One of his hands slid to her hip, fitting her against him, and she felt him, long and hard, pressed to her lower abdomen. A curling heat pooled low inside and she moaned into his mouth, so ready for this to happen…

It was only when one of his hands slid to the shoulder strap of her gown, that she remembered where they were. Reluctantly, she pulled away, a sheepish look on her face. “Sorry… I didn’t tell mum I wouldn’t be home tonight.”

He huffed. “I was looking forward to getting you out of that dress,” he said, grumpily, but turned to get his jacket all the same.

She was just relieved that the haunted look in his eyes had gone away. She watched him to make sure he wasn’t too upset that she’d rejected his advance, but he just smiled and held out his hand for hers, lacing them together as they left the room.

“Ah. There you are.”

They both froze at the sound of Harold Saxon’s voice. He was at the end of the hall, right where Rose had bumped into him before. He shoved away from the wall and walked toward them, smiling like they hadn’t had an awkward confrontation earlier in the ballroom.

“I knew you were on this floor, but I didn’t know which room.” He held up his hand, a shiny pendant dangling from his fingers. “I wanted to return this to Cinderella.”

Rose lifted her free hand to each of her ears, startled to find one of her earrings was missing. Had it fallen when she’d knocked into him? Was that why he’d approached her downstairs, or was there another reason?

Harold leaned close to her, still smiling. “Shall I put it on for you?”

The Doctor let go of Rose to snatch Harry’s wrist before the man could touch her. She looked at the Doctor, anticipating his fury, but he was calm, a cool smile on his face. Somehow, it was just as unsettling as his earlier anger had been.

“Understand one thing, Harry,” he said, evenly. “I don’t care who it is. If anyone hurts Rose, _I will kill him.”_

Rose’s heart pounded. The threat had been so quietly given, and she could tell he was utterly serious. The message was clear. _Hands off the blonde._

To her shock, Harold just laughed. “So sorry, but I won’t fall for your threats, _Doctor,”_ he said, tossing out the name mockingly. “I, however, am quite willing to use what ever despicable means I have to, in order to get what I want.” His gaze slid over to Rose. “And I want her.”

The Doctor’s eyes narrowed. “Well. That’s too bad then, isn’t it?” He tucked Rose underneath his arm and walked her around Harold toward the lift. “Because I have no intention of letting you take her.”

“Hm.” Harold watched them walk away. “This should be interesting.”


	5. Cornered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Masterworks Productions puts a choke-hold on Paradox, preventing them from performing... unless Rose agrees to write for Saxon Sound as their exclusive lyricist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Non-con kissing in this chapter.

The Doctor took Rose with him to the next television performance. He insisted. He wouldn’t admit it, but Rose knew it was because he didn’t want to let her out of his sight. Meeting his half brother had rattled him, she could tell because he often became distracted, then would _realize_ he was distracted, and then would make growly, frustrated sounds as he tugged at his hair. But he “didn’t want to talk about it,” oh, no.

Even so, what he’d said to Harold-- or Harry, she supposed-- the claim the Doctor had staked on her heart, made her go all floaty whenever she thought about it. _I have no intention of letting you take her._ She giggled.

The four other members of Paradox looked at the couple suspiciously. Rose was floating around on air while the Doctor sat huddled under a black cloud. None of them wanted to go near him for fear of getting snapped at. Jack sidled up to Rose instead.

“Rose, we’re going on soon,” he whispered. “Do you think you could cheer him up? The show is starting.”

“Oh… Sure.” She turned to the Doctor as the others left them alone in the dressing room. With a cheerful smile, she brought over a mug fixed the way he liked it. “Coffee, Doctor?”

“Don’t want it,” he said, as sullen as a teenager.

She set it down on the table in front of him just the same. “Why are you acting so angry?”

“Anyone would be angry if someone said they were going to take their girlfriend!” he said. “You don’t know Harry, Rose. He’s doing this just because he can, just because you’re mine!”

“Oh, I see,” she said, sitting on the couch next to him with a little chuckle. “You’re jealous again.”

“It’s nothing to laugh about!” he snapped. Grabbing her shoulders, he pushed her down on the cushions, looming over her. “I only want you to look at me!” he said, cupping her face in both hands. “To only _think_ about me! Otherwise, I don’t know what I’d be capable of doing. You make me dangerous, Rose.” His intense expression crumpled, his eyes betraying the helplessness he felt. “You’re in my mind _all_ the time… No matter what happens, I only have eyes for you.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist. “That’s how I feel about you, too. I thought you knew that.”

He sighed, dropping his head next to hers. “Rose,” he breathed, kissing her neck. “I want you.” He held her tighter. “I want you to be all mine… I don’t want anyone else to have you.” Grabbing the neck of her blouse, he tugged it down, revealing the cream lace of her bra. “I want your heart _and_ your body.”

She shivered as he kissed the swell of each breast. “But… the show…” And they were in a studio dressing room where anyone could walk in! Despite that, however, she could only muster the small reminder. She’d wanted him for so long…

“Rose, do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asked, his voice rough. He pressed himself more firmly against her, letting her feel how hard he was. “I’m like this all the time now, it’s bloody embarrassing.” Lifting his head, he smiled lasciviously. “You’re gonna have to help me with it… _very_ soon.”

* * *

Jack, Rory, Mickey, and Donna all turned at the sound of the dressing room door opening. It had only been a couple of minutes, but the Doctor emerged from within with a big smile.

“Ready to go?” he asked, brightly.

Rose stepped out beside him, her face red. The band members narrowed their eyes on her.

“He’s certainly in a good mood,” said Mickey.

“Trust Rose for that,” said Jack.

“What did you do?” asked Rory.

“Nothing much,” Rose mumbled, looking at the floor.

“Ah!” exclaimed Donna, pointing to Rose’s rumpled shirt and exposed cleavage.

Rose looked down and her blush deepened as she realized there were two dark red love bites clearly visible on her pale skin. She straightened her shirt right away and said, “We didn’t do anything!” but the band had already made their assumptions.

“So, the Doctor was just feeling horny, I get it now,” said Jack as they began to walk toward the set.

“But that was so _fast,”_ said Mickey.

“La, la, la, I’m not listening!” Donna said, loudly, walking even faster and leaving the rest of the group behind.

* * *

Rose stood at the back of the set, leaning against the far wall while the band took their seats on the long interview sofa. She couldn’t help but smile, she’d come to care deeply for all the members of Paradox, not just the Doctor.

“Your newest music video is very sexy,” the presenter said. “And the models faces weren’t shown at all, which of course made everyone very curious.” She leaned closer to the Doctor who sat nearest and said in a conspiratorial nature, “Your performance in particular was very compelling. Tell me, was it all an act?”

“Nope,” answered the Doctor, cheerfully popping the ‘p.’ “It was because the girl’s skin was _so_ soft. Made me so horny, I almost went off in my pants.”

Rose flushed, covering her mouth so she wouldn’t call him an arse while the cameras were rolling. Rory covered his eyes, Mickey and Jack laughed, and Donna hit the Doctor upside the head. The presenter tittered nervously, looking toward her producer for help. “Can we air that?”

Rose couldn’t believe he was using a television show to tease her, that prat! Even so, when they got up to perform, she found her irritation melting away. Whenever she heard him sing, everything else seemed to fade into the background.

“Do you always hide in a corner to watch him?”

She jumped slightly, startled to see Harry Saxon standing next to her. “Mr. Saxon,” she said, nervously, immediately wondering how she could edge away without being rude. “What are you doing here?”

“This is one of the television studios I own,” he said. “So, I’m the boss here. Don’t worry, I won’t interfere with the program.”

“Oh.” She fidgeted, twirling her earring, incredibly uncomfortable in his presence.

“I’m guessing you hate me,” he said with a smile.

“Um, hate’s a strong word,” she said, flustered, gasping when he clasped her chin in one strong hand.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, leaning down slightly to meet her eyes. “I’ll still have you.”

He pushed her back, his hand grasping her jaw and throat, as he forcefully kissed her. Rose tore her mouth away, crying, “Don’t!” but he just pressed against her harder, trapping her between him and the wall.

“Quiet now,” he crooned, almost gently. “Or do you want to ruin the show?”

He dug his fingers into her jaw, making her open her mouth, shoving his tongue inside. He was so strong, trying to bite him made her face ache. She didn’t _care_ if she wrecked the performance, when Harry lifted his head for air, she called out, “Doctor!”

“He’s not going to come to your rescue, not at the risk of his reputation,” Harry said, but in the next moment, he was being ripped off of Rose.

The Doctor hauled Harry up by his shirt front until they were nose to nose. “What do you think you’re doing to her?” he growled through ferally bared teeth, breathing hard through his nose.

Rose looked beyond and saw that Jack and Mickey were covering for the Doctor with a guitar solo, but they couldn’t keep it up indefinitely. “Doctor,” the stage manager hissed from a safe distance, “please get back on stage! The show’s almost over!”

Harry smirked, knowing that his half-brother would have to finish the performance, but the Doctor just glared.

“I will not let you control me.” He let go of Harry and grabbed Rose’s hand. “Come on!”

“Doctor, what--” she asked at the same time the stage manager asked, “What are you doing?” but he didn’t answer, he just pulled Rose right up on the stage with him, keeping her faced away from the cameramen. He wrapped his arms around her and winked at the cameras.

“Oh, that genius!” said the stage manager as the Doctor began to sing again. “He’s reenacting the music video!” He spoke into his headset. “Cameras two and three, make sure you don’t shoot the girl’s face!”

After the show, Donna threw her drumsticks at the Doctor’s head, saying he almost gave her a heart attack, but she followed this by giving a tight hug to Rose. The whole band was glad that the Doctor had interrupted the performance for her sake. Van Statten apologized to the producers of the show, because the Doctor had done something so unexpected, but they assured him that the ratings would only go up as a result of his antics, so no harm, no foul.

Harry watched Paradox leave the building from an office window high above the street. His eyes narrowed on Rose and his brother, the way he kept his arm around her. It appeared he was going to have to change up his game.

Harry knew that Rassilon admired the Doctor’s charm and how he’d made a name for himself despite humble beginnings. Though he was the bastard son, he stood a chance of taking away all that Harry prized; his father’s wealth, fame, and reputation. Originally, he’d intended to get Paradox to move to Saxon Sound from Kasterborous and then slowly destroy the Doctor’s career from the inside. It didn’t look like that was going to work.

If he was going to take his brother down, he was going to have to take extreme measures.

* * *

Van Statten entered the rehearsal space with a sigh, stopping the instruments by raising his hands. “I’ve got bad news,” he said. “All of the performance venues have been taken over by Masterworks Productions. The television studios have canceled all our appearances. Not only that, but the recording studio is under their control now, too. We may not even be able to cut a new album!” He glanced at the Doctor. “Unless…”

“Why am I suddenly certain I don’t want to hear this,” the Doctor said, putting a hand on his hip and glaring at the manager.

“Mr. Saxon has a condition,” said Van Statten. “If we want to continue with our music, we have to hand Rose over to Saxon Sound to be their exclusive lyricist.”

“What?” Rose exclaimed, rising from the folding chair she’d been sitting in.

The Doctor touched her shoulder. “I won’t let that happen,” he said, then looked at everyone else. “Come on. We’re having a meeting. Conference room, now.”

The band left Rose alone. She felt awful, even though it was Saxon’s doing, not hers, she couldn’t help but feel like she was the cause of Paradox’s troubles. She got up and left the building for some fresh air, but ended up pacing back and forth in front of the entrance. What were they going to do? She didn’t want to work for Saxon Sound, but if she didn’t, the Doctor wouldn’t be able to make music again.

“Kasterborous must be in chaos right now.”

Rose swung around, fire in her eyes, to see Harry leaning against a sleek black town car near the curb. She had no idea how long he’d been there, and she didn’t care. The very sight of him made her furious!

Seemingly oblivious to her rage, he smiled at her. “Wish I could be a fly on the wall for that.”

“You!” She marched over. “How could you do this to Paradox?”

“To get my hands on you, of course,” he said, unconcerned. “I thought that was fairly obvious.”

“You can’t just buy someone with money or power!” she shouted.

“Really?” he asked, seeming half amused with her declaration. He took a step closer to her and she forced herself to hold her ground. “To lie in my arms every night, surrounded by expensive clothes and jewelry… That alone can make any girl change her mind.”

He reached out and caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Rose hauled back and slapped him as hard as she could, making Harry half turn away from her with the force of her blow. She shook her hand to rid it of the sting. She’d never hit someone so hard in all her life!

“I can’t believe that someone like you shares blood with the Doctor,” she said, derisively. “You’re pathetic!”

She ran off toward the tube station, as though she feared he might grab her, but he didn’t move. He gingerly touched his face and smirked. The Doctor’s flower was not the shrinking violet he’d first thought.

* * *

Rose huddled on the couch at the Flat, her arms wrapped around her knees. She’d sent a text to the Doctor, telling him where she was, and he’d sent her one brief message back, to say he was going to be busy all night. She understood, of course, the band was in crisis, but she still missed him. She knew that the sensible thing to do would be to hand her over to Saxon, and just the thought of it made her heart feel like it was shattering into millions of pieces.

Her mobile started playing _Song to a Wolf_. The Doctor’s ringtone. She grabbed it and answered at once. “Doctor! I thought you were busy!”

“We’re having a dinner break,” he said. “I had to call and make sure you were okay.”

She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. He cared so much, his sweet voice brought tears to her eyes, but she blinked them back. “I’m fine,” she said. “Look, even if I have to write for Saxon, we can still be together. I mean, I don’t want to work for him, but--”

“Forget that, Rose.” He stunned her into silence. “You’re only writing for Paradox.”

“But Saxon’s power play--”

He scoffed. “You think he can crush Paradox just like that? You’re underestimating me. Van Statten might be shaking in his western boots, but the rest of us are intrigued. We want to see how far we can go with Harry putting on the choke hold.” His voice tightened. “And anyway, there’s no way I’m giving you over to him! He might say he wants you to be their lyricist, but there’s no telling what he’ll do.”

She sniffled. “I thought for sure I’d have to go.”

“I’m hurt, Rose. Have more faith in me.” Someone on his end of the line called for him. “I’ll be right there,” he said before turning his attention back to the conversation. “I have to go. I’ll send you a text later, alright?”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

* * *

The Doctor was as good as his word. He wasn’t about to let Paradox die at the hands of Harry Saxon. The very next day, he sent Rose a text to come to Regent’s Park at the Open Air Theatre. She was amazed by the sheer amount of people all gathered around, crowded into the stadium. Van Statten met her near the stage, explaining that it had all been done by word of mouth, since Saxon would undoubtedly try to stop them from performing somehow if they advertised. Even so, as the live outdoor performance got underway, Rose saw news vans pull up to give coverage. A wide smile broke out onto her face.

After the show, she met the band near the portable trailers behind the stage. The Doctor’s face lit up when he saw her and he bounced over to give her a kiss, draping himself over her and snuggling close. She giggled, a bit nervous that some fans might see them, but she couldn’t begrudge him the high he was riding. He’d succeeded against the odds, his happiness was utterly contagious.

Despite the successful performance, however, the fans were in an uproar. They gathered outside of Kasterborous every day, pleading for some information to everyone who came and went from the building. They were frantic that all of the published performances and television appearances had been cancelled.

Looking down from the conference room window at all of them, Rose couldn’t help the guilt that plagued her. It was because of her that Saxon had cut Paradox off from their fans. Because of her selfishness, millions of people were upset. And what would happen if they believed the band was done for good? They would move on eventually, find other bands to listen to and give their devotion to.

She closed her eyes, clenching her fists against the pain in her heart. She couldn’t be responsible for that.

Rose left the building while the band was in rehearsal. She couldn’t see any of them or her resolve might fail her. She edged around the fans, mumbling reassurances as they grasped at her arms, begging to know what happened to Paradox. She took her mobile from her pocket as she walked briskly to the end of the street and located the number for Masterworks Productions through the internet application. She gave her name to the secretary who answered and was put directly through to the CEO.

She resisted the urge to cringe as Harry Saxon’s voice crooned in her ear. “Do you have an answer for me, Rose?” he asked as if he already knew.

“I’ll work for you,” she said, tightly. “Just give Paradox back to their fans.”

“Tell me where you are, I’ll have a car sent.”

She swallowed hard and did as he asked. The Doctor’s future was in her hands, she couldn’t fail him now.

* * *

The town car dropped her off in front of a tall, posh hotel and Harry met her in the lobby. When he grasped her elbow to lead her to the lifts, she let him, forcing herself not to jerk away from his touch. He was her boss now, he held all the cards. They went up to the penthouse, but Rose couldn’t be impressed by the enormous suite of rooms, the large open space with floor to ceiling windows all along one wall. It was just a gilded cage.

“Let me be clear about one thing,” Harry said, coming around to stand in front of her, commanding her attention. “Until you give me the lyrics I want, you won’t be allowed to leave this room and under no circumstances will you be allowed to see the Doctor.” He pulled a thick envelope from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. “In here you’ll find an iPod with the song you’re to write words for and information on the group who will perform it.” He tossed it on the entry table and smirked at her. “They’re Saxon Sound’s best group and I’m pitting them against Paradox, head to head. They both have the same edge; sexy tone, sexy looks, and now, your sexy lyrics.”

“I’m surprised the president of a company has time to do things like this,” said Rose, darkly.

“Oh, this is just my hobby,” he said, brightly.

She glared, unable to hide how much she hated him, even if she couldn’t say it. Torturing the Doctor was his hobby? There didn’t seem to be a word vile enough to describe this man.

Harry took a step closer. “Such a foul expression on such a lovely face,” he said, oozing charm. He curled his hands over her shoulders, drawing her in, and her skin began to crawl. “Shall I help you get in a better mood?”

“No!” she snapped, jerking away from him. Protectively, she closed her fist around the top of her jacket, not wanting him to even look at her. “I’ll write! But leave me alone!”

“Hmm.” He gave her a calculating look, then spread his arms in acquiescence. “As you wish.”

She breathed a sigh as he left, the heavy door shutting with a quiet thud. Grabbing the envelope he’d left for her, she sat down on one of the plush sofas. The glass coffee table was set with a brand new notebook and a mechanical pencil. She dumped the contents of the envelope on top, putting the earbuds in to listen to the song while she read over the information on the band.

All she had to do was finish these lyrics and then she could go home.

To the Doctor.

* * *

“We have a photoshoot at three this afternoon and a television recording at five. The Doctor has a magazine interview at ten while the rest of you will prepare for the music festival, I can go over the details at the event…”

Van Statten hurried around the conference table, passing out printed schedules for the four members of Paradox that were paying him any attention. The Doctor was standing at the window, leaning a forearm against the cool glass, his other hand at his hip, tension in every line of his body.

The manager paused, flipping the screen on his tablet. “There are so many jobs now, thanks to Rose--”

Mickey hastily shushed the man while Jack made a ‘cut’ motion across his throat, but the damage was done. They’d all made a conscious effort not to mention Rose in the Doctor’s presence ever since he’d received a text from her last night. He’d been furious, only Jack had been able to rein in his friend’s temper before he’d done something reckless… like destroy an entire room of instruments. As it was, the Doctor had already said a lot of things he regretted, but since the explosion, he hadn’t said a single word.

His mind, however, hadn’t stopped. It was practically audible, the _tick, tick, tick_ of his thoughts revolving; working out a way to get Rose back and beat his brother.

“Henry,” the Doctor said suddenly, making everyone jump as he broke his silence. When he turned to face them, his expression was hardened with relentless determination. “Where can I find Harry?”

Van Statten gulped and looked down at his tablet as the Doctor stalked over to him. “Ah, well… he tends to stay in different places, so--”

The Doctor’s fist crashed into the wall beside the man’s head. “Sorry,” said the Doctor, sounding more threatening than apologetic. “I thought there was a bug.”

Sweat was beginning to gleam on Van Statten’s large forehead. The Doctor leaned in, his intense stare pinning the shorter man.

“You can’t keep me holed up in here,” he warned. “So you’d better find my answers before I go looking for them myself.” He turned and left the room, the door slamming behind him.

A collective sigh breathed through the room, though no one felt the better for it. Van Statten pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his head, then grabbed his mobile to make some calls. Donna sat back in her chair and looked at Jack.

“Should we leave him alone?” she asked.

Jack shrugged. “He’s not like he was last night, so I think it’s alright. He wouldn’t welcome any of our company right now anyway.”

“I’ve never seen the Doctor act this way,” said Rory. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”

“Not yet,” said Jack. “But soon, I hope.”

* * *

“These are terrible, _I_ can write better lyrics than these,” Harry said, crushing the paper with Rose’s careful writing into a ball and throwing it on the floor of the hotel room. It was already littered with similar balls of paper, the proof of her long and frustrating night of work.

He’d come back that afternoon to see what she’d done. Rose had only managed mediocre lyrics, and that was being extremely charitable. She knew they were bad, but it was only because she was so desperate to leave. In her haste to churn out lyrics for Harry, she’d only prolonged her sentence.

“I’m going back to the office,” he said, frowning distastefully. “Hopefully, you’ll have some _good_ lyrics for me when I return.” He left the room without even a backward glance.

Rose threw herself down backwards on the sofa, covering her face with her hands. “Fuck.” It was easy to write lyrics when she thought about being with the Doctor, but how could she do that in this type of situation, when she was essentially being held prisoner? She felt miserable! She couldn’t feel sexy and concentrate on writing when all she wanted to do was leave!

With a sigh, she sat up and picked up the pencil and notebook again. She didn’t even put the earbuds back in, she knew the music backwards and forwards. The Toclafane was a good band, they had a nice sound, but to Rose, nothing could compare with Paradox. She put her head in her left hand and tapped the pencil with her right.

She glanced at her flashing mobile that sat on the end of the coffee table. She hadn’t answered any of the Doctor’s texts after she’d told him what she was doing. He’d sent repeated messages, wanting to know where she was, but if she told him, he would just come to get her and she couldn’t leave before she’d done what Harry wanted.

Her head shot up as someone banged on the door. The room had gotten dark, the sun having set some time ago. She had no idea how long she’d sat there, trying to write. Who would be knocking so violently? Not Harry, he had a key card.

“Rose? Are you in there?”

She jumped to her feet, her heart galloping in her chest. “Doctor!”

She ran to the door to open it as he shouted, “Open up!”

Flinging the door open wide, she was in his arms the next moment, crying his name in relief as he kissed her over and over. “I found you… I had people looking-- Are you alright?” he demanded, running his hands over her as if looking for evidence of harm. “Did he do anything?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, shaking her head.

“Where’s Harry?” he asked, looking up into the room with narrowed eyes.

“He’s at his office.”

His mouth tightened. “Fuck. I wanted to--” He sucked in a breath and looked back down at Rose, holding her tighter instead of finishing his sentence, but she had a fairly good idea of what he meant. He backed toward the open door. “Come on, let’s go.”

She froze, pulling away from him. It made her feel sick to her stomach, but she said, “I can’t.”

He looked at her as if she were mad. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t go,” she said again. “If I leave without writing the lyrics Harry wants, he’ll put pressure on the band again, and I can’t let him do that.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking down at the floor. “I won’t be responsible for Paradox’s downfall, not while I have to ability to fix it.”

He frowned, then swept towards her in one stride and picked her up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Rose shrieked and struggled, but he ignored her protests. “I’m not leaving here without you,” he said, even as she kicked and pounded his backside with her fists.

She grabbed the frame of the door, holding onto it with all her might. “Doctor, stop!” she yelled. “I’m not gonna let you make problems for the band! I have to write for Harry!”

He grunted, trying to get her away from the door, but not wanting to hurt her. “Stubborn woman!”

“As stubborn as you!”

He stopped tugging at her with a sigh, then gently set her down to the floor. “Alright,” he said, grudgingly. “You write a song for him, but after that, I’m taking you out of here, no matter what you say and you leave the rest to me, deal?”

She nodded. “Deal.”

He pressed his lips together. It was not quite a smile, but it made her feel a tiny bit better. He stepped into the room and closed the door. “Now that we’ve decided,” he said, putting his arm around her and leading her to the wall of windows. “I’ll arouse your imagination so that you can write the best lyrics possible. I don’t want you here any longer than necessary.”

He stood directly behind her as they looked down at the beautiful nighttime skyline. The lights of the city below looked like fairy lights from so high up. He wrapped his arms around her, unbuttoning her top, sliding the fabric away from her shoulder in order to kiss her there. She moaned softly. No one could see them where they were, even if they got totally naked, they would appear only as two dark shapes against the glass, but she went liquid between her legs at the thought of him ravishing her in full view of all of London.

“Rose…” His hot breath teased the hair near her ear and she shivered. His hands cupped her breasts as he pressed himself against her, sliding his growing erection up and down along the crease of her bum through their clothes. “Let’s do it right here.”

“Ah!” she cried, tearing herself away from him and scrambling back to the notebook she’d left on the couch. “I just thought of a really good line!”

There was a dull _thunk_ as he lightly banged his head against the window. With a grimace, he reached down and adjusted himself through his jeans. This girl was out to kill him, for sure. He couldn’t hold onto his irritation at his seduction being interrupted when she turned her head and smiled, however. With a sigh, he sat down next to her and played with her hair as she wrote and hummed snippets of a song he didn’t know. As long as he got to take her home after this, that was all he really cared about.

* * *

Rose was gone when Harry returned to the hotel room late that night, but a page of neatly written lyrics was waiting for him on the coffee table, next to the iPod. He picked up the paper, wanting to see what she’d done that made her believe she’d earned her freedom.

_Black and red, heart-shaped bed, locked in our honeymoon suite,_   
_Your silk and lace brushes my face, I touch your skin and feel your heat._   
_The scent of your body makes me lose control,_   
_Your palms on the window, I’ll swallow you whole._   
_Let yourself go, lights shining below, you and I, falling through space,_   
_I need you so badly, but I suffer gladly as your body’s joy runs down my face._   
_Let me hear your voice, call my name,_   
_Take me deeper, clutching the window frame,_   
_Silhouettes on glass, cars drive just past, far down below, the people walk by._   
_Keep your legs spread and throw back your head as you cry out and shout to the sky!_

The paper crinkled as his hand tightened. Slowly, he tore it to shreds, letting the pieces fall on the carpet. The lyrics were a slap in the face, though admittedly, not as violent as the actual slap she’d given him before. He wasn’t about to let his prize get away so easily.


	6. Drugged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and the Doctor consummate their relationship, but the happiness is short lived when the Doctor disappears a few days later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: The chapter is NSFW and there is non-con drug use.

Rose rubbed her nose back and forth against the front of the Doctor’s shirt, clasping him tighter around the waist. They’d curled up together on the couch immediately upon arriving at the Flat. It was quite late, but Rose had no desire to go back to her mum’s. She just wanted to stay right where she was, locked in the Doctor’s arms, breathing in his scent.

“Thank you for saving me,” she said with a shy smile. Even though he hadn’t strictly ‘saved’ her, he had enabled her to leave the hotel without worrying she hadn’t fulfilled her obligation.

He smiled and nipped at her earlobe. “Of course. You’re my precious girl. I’ll always come for you.”

She giggled. “You dirty boy.”

“What?” he asked, making his eyes go wide and innocent. “What did I-- Oh, Rose Tyler, you naughty girl!” He tickled her ribs, making her wiggle and struggle to get out of his embrace. _“You’re_ the one turning what I said into something dirty!”

“Sexy words are my job!” she protested, breathlessly, trying to fight off his quick hands.

Finally, he grabbed her wrists and pinned her back against the sofa. Dipping his head, he pressed his lips to hers in a soft kiss. She melted at once, relaxing against the cushions. His hand moved to her jaw, brushing her hair back, sliding his fingers to the nape of her neck. With a little pressure, he tilted her head for better access and deepened the kiss, swallowing the soft sound of pleasure she made as his tongue stroked hers.

Her hand crept up his chest, her fingers finding a few inches of skin where he had left his shirt unbuttoned. She took a moment to praise whatever deity was listening that the Doctor considered the last few buttons on his shirts to be merely decorative. Knowing it was late, though, she pushed him back, giving him an apologetic smile.

“I, um… I should go,” she said. “Mum will--”

His arms tightened around her. “Don’t go,” he said, his eyes pleading. “Stay with me tonight.”

She bit her lip. She wanted to. And she could tell that he wasn’t just asking for the sake of his physical needs. After their enforced separation, he didn’t want to be parted from her. Truthfully, the moment had been building between them for far too long.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her mobile and tapped out a message to her mum, saying she would be out all night with the girls. “One of these days, I’m going to have to come clean about you to my mother,” she warned as she set the phone aside.

He grinned. “But not now.”

She blushed. “No, not now.”

He pulled her in for another kiss, cradling her head in his hands, drawing her lower lip into his mouth and sucking on it. She was grateful they were seated, her knees felt like water. Apparently unsatisfied with how they were sitting pressed up next to each other, he adjusted his hold and dragged her into his lap with a little growl. His hand slid over her hip, squeezing her bum.

“Let me love you tonight, Rose,” he murmured against her lips. Without waiting for an answer, he stood with her in his arms, carrying her into the bedroom.

Rose knew she’d waited longer than most girls her age to have sex. Jimmy had made fun of her for it, called her old fashioned when he was sober and a prude or a tease when he was drunk. But like most people who waited, she had wanted her first time to be special, for it to mean something. Right now, with the Doctor carrying her to bed like a princess, giving her such passionate kisses, murmuring promises to love her… she couldn’t think of anything she wanted more.

He sat her down gently on the mattress and knelt beside her, his hands going to the hem of her shirt. Blushing, she laid her hands over his, stopping him.

“Um, shouldn’t we turn out the lights?” she asked, feeling silly. He’d seen almost all of her at the video shoot, why was she suddenly shy now? But he just smiled and shook his head.

“Don’t hide yourself from me,” he said, so mildly as to almost be a request.

Still blushing, she relinquished her hold on him and let him pull her shirt over her head. Wanting to show that her hesitation had been in the name of shyness rather than reluctance, she reached behind herself and unclasped her lacey bra, letting it fall from her with just the barest of pauses. His smile was warm, his half-lidded eyes full of admiration.

“Beautiful,” he murmured.

He kissed her again and Rose’s shyness began to fade into the background as warmth wound through her. A muffled sound escaped her, half-surprise, half-pleasure, when his hands touched her bare breasts, the pink nipples tightening as if she were cold, when she honestly felt as though he’d set her on fire. He slid kisses down her neck and collarbone, then lifted her breasts, kissing each one in turn, and then taking one nipple into his hot, wet mouth.

She gasped, her hands diving into his hair as his tongue laved the taut bud, then made tight little circles while his hand mimicked the motion on the opposite breast. When he switched over, his hands moved to the buttons of his shirt. He wanted to undress Rose further, but felt like he should even the playing field a bit first. He’d gotten all the buttons undone and was pulling the shirt from his jeans before Rose noticed what he was doing.

“Sh-shouldn’t I do that?” she asked, looking up at him with passion darkened eyes that were still so unsure.

He smiled. “There’s no right or wrong way of doing this, Rose, no should or shouldn’t that isn’t defined by us,” he said, softly. He gestured at himself. “Would you like to? That’s the important question.”

Biting her lip, she nodded and reached up to push the shirt from his shoulders. She ran her hands down his chest. She’d seen this much of him before, but it was still just as compelling. The scant amount of hair sprinkled across his pectoral muscles tickled her hands and she smiled to see he had freckles on his skin here, too. She’d been too nervous to notice before. Leaning up, she kissed a large freckle near the hollow of his neck.

“What do you like?” she asked, hooking her fingers into his belt loops.

“Oh, half the fun is finding out,” he said, waggling his eyebrows. “But I think I’d rather leave exploring me for another time. I want tonight to be about you.” He brought his hands to the front of her jeans, flicking open the button. “I might not be able to concentrate if we do this at the same time,” he admitted, a little sheepishly.

She lifted herself up on her hands as he pulled the jeans down and off of her, leaving her in lace-edged cotton knickers.

“This looks familiar,” he said, too warmly to be cheeky, then crawled over her for another kiss.

He urged her back toward the headboard, she scooted backward and he moved with her, until she was reclining against the large, fluffy pillows. He settled next to her, his left hand in her hair while his free hand drifted across her, teasing goosebumps to the surface. Instinctively, she moved closer to him, feeling his warmth, sharing his breath, breathing in his scent, feeling his heart beating against her side, faster than normal.

“Such fine lines… I feel like I’m going to break you if I’m not careful,” he said, his hand pausing on her thigh. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” she said, breathlessly. “I know it’s supposed to hurt… I don’t care.”

“It doesn’t have to be bad,” he said, nipping her shoulder. “I’ll try to be careful. I want you to have the best of what I’m able to give.”

His mouth stayed busy while his fingers slid under her knickers, brushing through her dark curls. She expected him to touch her right away, but he just cupped her mound, one long finger resting against her slit. Taking a deep breath, she parted her legs, giving him better access, wanting to be an active participant in what he was doing to her. She clamped her lips together, muffling a moan, when he touched her wetness for the first time.

“Let me hear you,” he murmured against her breast, gingerly exploring her with just the first two joints of one finger.

“Doctor,” she said on another moan.

“John,” he said, kissing her rib cage.

Her heart slammed in her chest. “R-really?”

“Here,” he kissed one hip, “now,” he kissed the other, “I’m John. Just for you.”

_Just for you._ Warmth curled around her heart. “John,” she whispered as he pulled her knickers down with his free hand and nuzzled her curls with his nose.

“I can’t hear you.” Spreading her with both hands, he gave her one long lick.

“John!” she cried, her hips bucking off the mattress.

He circled her clit with his tongue and a surge of moisture aided him as he slid his finger all the way inside. He could feel her muscles tighten around him, slick softness on steel, and the thin barrier that would cause her some discomfort when they came together, but he would make sure she felt pleasure before then. Keeping the movements of his hand slow and steady, he concentrated on bringing her to her peak with his mouth. Her hands went to his hair and he hummed appreciatively when she tugged at it. At her groan, he hummed again, moving his head from side to side. It wasn’t long until she was all but screaming beneath him, coming apart, her whole body shaking.

Pressing wet kisses to her thighs, he left her for a moment to recover while he wiggled out of his jeans and pants and located a condom from the bedside drawer. She was watching him as he rolled it on, her chest still heaving, but one of her eyebrows was quirked. He rejoined her on the bed and did his best to distract her with another kiss. He didn’t want her glow to fade while she questioned him about being ‘prepared.’

He stroked her with his fingers again, this time using two, rotating his wrist a bit, stretching her little by little. He caressed her clit with his thumb, softly, over its swollen hood, not wanting to give it direct pressure so soon after her first orgasm, but soon he was granted a fresh wave of wetness. Withdrawing his fingers, he spread her slick over himself before pressing against her heat. He watched her face, how her brow drew together as he eased the head of his cock inside. She was still so tight and her body trembled faintly under his.

Leaning down on his forearms, he rested his head against hers. “This is the difficult part,” he said. “Take a deep breath and when you let it out, try to relax as much as possible.” He was aware that his words weren’t very romantic, but she seemed to appreciate him coaching her through it. There would be time for losing themselves in passion later.

She did as he said and when he felt her inner walls slacken minutely, he thrust forward, breaching her barrier. He went still on her startled cry of pain, her thighs clamping around his hips. Even though she’d known it would happen, the reality was something else entirely. He kissed her cheek, her neck, murmuring soothing nonsense until her thighs relaxed and her tight muscles released slightly.

He gave another shallow thrust and she gasped, her eyes going wide. “Hurts?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not really, just… different.”

He moved again, this time creating a slow rhythm. She clutched at his shoulders as the lingering discomfort faded, to be replaced by waves of sensation alongside the glorious feeling of fullness. When he withdrew a bit further and surged back, she arched her neck, moaning his name.

A cocky grin quirked his lips. “Good?” he asked, seemingly reduced to single syllables.

“More!” she gasped, similarly affected.

He began moving faster and deeper. Her legs instinctively came up around his slim hips, locking her ankles at the small of his back. She began attempting to meet his thrusts, groaning in pleasure when she found the right cadence.

The waves built slowly, crashing over her with greater intensity each time, but it was quite different than anything she’d experienced before. The indirect pressure on her clit gave her the occasional jolt, but for the most part, the pressure was gradual, building up inexorably to something new. Her breathing was short and fast as she quickened her movements, wanting to hurry toward this new place, wanting to soar off into the unknown.

She wasn’t sure what did it, but one moment the sensations were building to a fever pitch, the next she was calling out, her body was arching off the bed, every muscle going rigid, as indescribable pleasure shook her to her very core and rippled outward to the very tips of her fingers. John, too, had gone still, his hands clutching her hips tightly, but she could feel him pulsing inside of her as her inner muscles contracted around him.

It seemed to go on for so long, and yet, when her muscles went slack and she fell back on the bed, utterly unable to move, she knew it could only have been mere moments. An eternity wrapped up in the space of a minute. Oh, she hoped she remembered that line later, because she had no energy to get up and write it down.

John sluggishly withdrew from her, his normally elegant movements heavy-looking and slow. He seemed as disinclined to move as she was, for he removed the condom and tossed it onto the floor without ceremony and then all but collapsed next to her.

His arms came around her, drawing her in close, fitting her body to his. One of his legs slung over both of hers, the manly hair tickling her just slightly. He placed a kiss to her brow. “My Rose,” he mumbled, and she couldn’t help but smile.

Utterly sated, boneless in the aftermath of such pleasure, feeling warm and protected in his arms, she let herself follow him into sleep.

* * *

It was much earlier than Rose was used to when the call of nature woke her up in the morning. Luckily, the Doctor had sprawled out at some point during the night. Her head was still pillowed on one of his arms, but he was now laying on his back with his other arm above his head, so it was fairly easy to climb out of bed without waking him.

Or at least, that was what she thought, until he grabbed her wrist before she could stand up.

“Where are you going?” he asked, blinking gorgeous sleepy eyes at her, his voice rough and groggy. She just barely suppressed a shiver at the sound, the Doctor’s voice right after waking up should be illegal.

Holding the sheet to her chest, she shyly pointed in the direction of the ensuite, rather than say. He grunted and fell back on the bed, closing his eyes. She went to the loo to do her morning business, noting the peculiar soreness she felt within. Not too bad, but it made her think about their night together. It made her eager to return to him rather than shower, so she used one of the brand new toothbrushes in the mirrored medicine cabinet and returned to the bedroom. She thought he might have fallen back asleep, but when she emerged she could smell coffee brewing. She turned to thank him and burst out laughing.

He was sitting up in bed with a bowl of fruit in his lap, which would have been innocuous had he not gotten creative with the placement of two satsumas and one large banana. He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Hungry?”

She was still giggling when she rejoined him on the bed, grabbing the banana. Aware of his eyes on her, she slowly peeled it and tried to be sexy while taking a bite. Apparently, it worked, because he tackled her in the next moment, the ‘lap ornament’ flying off the bed, the plastic bowl and satsumas making a dull clatter-patter sound as they hit the floor.

“Forget the fruit,” he growled. “I want _you_ for breakfast.”

She was still holding the banana, so she pouted playfully. “But I haven’t finished,” she said before taking another slow bite, moaning in exaggerated appreciation of the flavor.

His eyes darkened. “You minx!”

He tickled her and the banana went over the side of the bed as she wiggled and squirmed all over the sheets until she begged for mercy, which then dissolved into kissing. Rose couldn’t help but wish that moments like these could last forever.

* * *

The Doctor’s schedule didn’t allow for them to see each other for the next several days, but Rose wouldn’t let that bring her down from the high she’d been floating on. Ever since they’d had sex, she felt lighter than air. It certainly hadn’t staunched her creativity, her thoughts for naughty song lyrics had been practically non-stop, filling her little notebook. She’d harbored a small fear that once they’d done the deed, her well of ideas would dry up, but that hadn’t happened. It was like an entirely new part of herself had been unlocked and she couldn’t wait to talk shop with the Doctor when he had a chance.

Well, that wasn’t the _only_ reason she wanted to see him now. A tiny private smile wreathed her lips.

Idly, she flipped channels on the telly while Jackie was making them tea in the kitchen. Her mum was on the portable phone with one of her friends, so Rose was only giving her chatter half an ear. She paused when she saw the Doctor’s picture on a news station.

“--Vocalist for the popular band, Paradox, has been admitted to a London hospital today for exhaustion,” the presenter was saying. Rose’s stomach flipped over, the remote falling from her nerveless hand. “The band’s manager has refused to disclose which hospital, so that the area will not be swarmed with fans--”

She was already on her feet and grabbing her bag and coat, yelling an excuse to her mother. Running down to the bus stop, her thoughts whirled. The Doctor had always seemed so full of energy, how could he get admitted for exhaustion? What if it was a serious illness?

It seemed to take forever to get to Kasterborous Records. She burst into the rehearsal room to find the other four members of the band plus Van Statten standing around looking by turns nervous, concerned, or, in Donna’s case, almost frantic. The redhead rushed over to her, grabbing Rose by the shoulders.

“Rose, thank God you’re here!”

“What happened? Where is he?” Rose asked at once. “Which hospital?”

Donna’s face paled. “You mean you don’t know where he is, either?”

Rose’s heart skipped a heart. “What do you mean, ‘either’?”

“He wasn’t admitted to a hospital,” said Van Statten, the lines around his mouth deeply etched. “That was just the story we gave the media. The Doctor is missing.”

“Missing?” she repeated, but was barely able to get the word out. It felt like she could hardly breathe.

“We haven’t been able to reach him since yesterday,” said Jack, looking years older with dark circles under his eyes. “He missed practice and then a television appearance. We thought he might have been with you, but he’s never missed work before!” He dragged a hand through his messy hair and Rose wondered when was the last time any of them slept. “We’ve got to split up and look for him.”

“You can’t do that,” Van Statten said at once, moving to block the door. “If you go, the media will see you and want to know what’s really going on.”

“And your point is?” Jack barked at the man. The guitarist probably would have bodily thrown the manager out of his way, had Rose not stepped between them.

“I’ll go look for him,” she said, firmly.

Everyone looked at her in surprise, then Van Statten nodded.

“Yes, it makes the most sense for Rose to look,” he said. “We can continue making calls from here.”

Reluctantly, they agreed. Rose wrote down the names of the places they gave her in her notebook, but she already had a pretty good idea of where she needed to go to find information. Whenever anything troublesome happened for Paradox lately, it was always due to one source.

* * *

Her name at the front desk of Masterworks Productions still got her direct access to the CEO. She was sent right into the special lift that granted entrance to the top floor. She marched into the large, elegantly appointed office, ready to demand answers if she had to. Harry was leaning back in a black leather chair, his shiny and expensive-looking shoes propped up on the wide desk, his legs crossed at the ankle.

“Well,” he said with a smile. “The wayward blossom blows back my way.” He arched an eyebrow at her, his tone laced with insinuation as he asked, “Looking for something?”

“So, you _do_ know what’s happened to him,” she said, coming to stand in front of the desk. She hadn’t wanted to come to him for help, but she’d just known he had something, or everything, to do with the Doctor’s disappearance. The problem was, he knew she’d had no choice in coming to him, too. He’d made sure of it.

“Of course,” he said, smugly.

“Will you let me see him?”

He sighed as if it was a great imposition, setting his feet on the floor. “I suppose. However,” he added, when her face brightened, “I can’t promise he’ll be the Doctor you know.”

Shivering from that ominous statement, she allowed Harry to lead her back to the lift, which they rode all the way down to the sub-basement. The narrow hallway they walked down was stark and dimly lit by intermittent overhead fluorescent lighting. Their footsteps echoed eerily off the tiles like something out of a horror film. Rose wrapped her arms protectively around herself, rubbing her hands up and down her biceps to get rid of her goosebumps, even though she didn’t feel cold.

They stopped in front of a plain but heavy-looking door. Harry removed a key from his jacket pocket and opened it, gesturing for Rose to go inside. She felt along the wall for a switch, then gasped as the light blinked to life.

The Doctor lay topless on a bare mattress atop a wrought iron bed, the only furniture in the room. His left arm was handcuffed to the heavy bed frame, his other arm hung limply half off the mattress. Rose ran to his side, calling his name and gently shaking his shoulders, but he didn’t respond. From what she could see, he didn’t look hurt, aside from some scratches on his chest, but there was very dark bruising on the inside of his right elbow.

Harry strolled into the room, his hands in his pockets. “He’s stronger than I gave him credit for,” he said, conversationally. “When the drugs wear off the pain is excruciating, but he never asks for more and struggles every time he’s dosed. Such a bother.” He turned to her with a smile. “So, what do you think, should I turn him over to the police or to the media? Either way would be devastating, he’s a rock star addicted to drugs, so Paradox is finished.”

Rose rounded on him with tears in her eyes, striking at him with her fists in a blind fury, too upset to really hurt him. “How could you do this?” she shouted. “He’s your _brother!_ You’re a monster!”

One of his hands snapped out of his pocket and flashed through the air in a cobra-like movement, grabbing her wrist. His eyes, which she’d once believed so similar to the Doctor’s, were ice cold. “If _you_ hadn’t run away, I wouldn’t have had to take such drastic measures,” he said. “This is your last chance, Rose. Forget him and come with me and I’ll make sure this stays between us.” His other hand reached for her face, brushing away a tear that had fallen. “This is the only way you can save him. And you’re going to give me what I want. Because if he keeps getting injections like this, he’ll probably die.”

“Don’t you touch me!” she spat. She jerked away from him and rifled through her bag with shaking hands.

“Calling the police?” he asked, unconcerned as he wandered to the door and leaned against the jamb. “What are you going to tell them? That the president of a vast media empire is holding a famous singer captive and injecting him with drugs? No one’s going to believe you and the rumor would just become a tidbit for the media. Besides, I can just release him from the building and let him be arrested for taking illegal substances.”

Rose’s hand closed over her mobile, but she hesitated, biting her lip. He was right. He was holding all the cards.

“Say you’ll belong to me and I’ll let him go,” he said.

She looked at the Doctor, lying helplessly on the bed, not moving, at his brother’s mercy. She covered her mouth to catch the sob that tried to escape. She wouldn’t cry. Not in front of Harry.

_I’m sorry, Doctor,_ she thought. _This is the only thing I can do…_

“Alright.”

With a smile, he tapped something on his mobile. “Come on, then,” he said, taking her by the arm to lead her out of the room.

“What about the Doctor?” she asked in a rush. “You said you’d let him go!”

“I just sent a message to my man who will come get him and also one to Paradox’s manager, letting him know where to collect him.” He gave her a slight push toward the lift. “Wait for me in the lobby. I need to lock up here. Wouldn’t want him to wake up and wander off to get into trouble.”

She almost argued, but thought better of it and did as he said. He went back into the cell and unlocked the handcuff with another key, looking down at his brother resentfully.

“Now you’ll know what it feels like to have something precious taken from you,” he said, not knowing whether his statement would be heard, but not caring overly much.

Locking the door behind him, he left the key to the room on the floor outside. His man would know to find it when he came to pick up the Doctor.


	7. Owned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and the Doctor are separated. Harry asserts his dominance over his new possession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Aborted non-con. This chapter is NSFW.

In the town car, Rose phoned her mother and said that the music company she’d been writing for wanted to put her up in a flat. Jackie had balked instantly and for a moment, Rose thought she might have a way out of this horrid deal. No media mogul wanted to be accused of kidnapping, after all, and that was exactly what Jackie would do if she thought it was happening. But Harry had taken the mobile out of Rose’s hand and smoothly charmed her mother, stating that it was company policy to make sure all of Masterworks Productions employees were well taken care of. He even offered to take Jackie out to dinner to explain Rose’s benefits and salary options. When he handed the mobile back to Rose, she could tell by his smirk that he knew he’d won again.

Harry took her to the same hotel he’d kept her in before, the same lavish penthouse suite. Despite her resolve not to cry in front of him, Rose couldn’t help the tears that welled up when she remembered her last moments in that room - with the Doctor inspiring her to write. Now she would never see him again. Even if Harry eventually got tired of keeping her around, the Doctor surely would never forgive her for this. She sniffled.

“Stop crying,” Harry said sharply, despite the fact that she hadn’t really shed any tears yet. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her through the sitting room, into the bedroom, and over to the big bed dominating one side of the room, shoving her down onto it.

Rose shook as he shrugged out of his dark gray suit jacket and pulled off his red tie, wanting to run, but having no where to go. Harry _owned_ her now. A startled cry escaped her as he all but tackled her, pushing her back on the mattress. He forced himself between her legs and shoved her shirt up to her chin. His hands were rough as he fondled her breasts. When his teeth bit at the delicate skin of one of the soft mounds, she called out, helplessly, “Doctor!” But he wouldn’t come to save her this time.

Harry lifted his head, his lips curled in a snarl. “I don’t think you understand what it means to belong to me,” he said, straightening up. Grabbing her by the hair at the nape of her neck, he pulled her up, arching her back at an awkward angle. “It means you _forget_ about the Doctor! You will never see him again; you will never so much as mention his _name!”_ He tightened his grip and she closed her eyes as a sharp pain shot through her scalp. “Forget him, or I’ll kill him. Do you understand me?”

“I… Yes…” she choked out. When she opened her eyes, two tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’ll forget him. Just please, don’t hurt him anymore.”

He glared at her, then abruptly let her fall back down on the bed. He moved away from her and bent to pick up his jacket, shaking it out. “I’ve lost the mood,” he said, pulling the garment back on. He ran the backs of his hands down his arms, then brushed his palms briskly down his front, making sure he was immaculate. When he turned back, his cold smile was in place again. “Don’t misunderstand. I’m not going to let you go.” His eyes raked her body shamelessly as he touched his tongue to his top lip. “When I enjoy you, I plan on doing it slowly.”

Two more tears fell as he left the hotel room, his mocking laughter ringing in her ears. Rose rolled over and grabbed one of the pillows from the bed. There was no way she was going to sleep on that thing, not after what had almost happened.

On shaky legs, she made her way over to the couch where she’d once sat with the Doctor and curled up on it, clutching the pillow close. Finally alone, she allowed herself to really cry, letting her mascara run all over the white linen pillowcase and not caring one bit.

* * *

“Rory!”

The bassist burst into the Doctor’s bedroom at his bellow, to find the singer hunched over the bin in his lap, heaving whatever was left in his stomach into it. When he sat back up, he instantly started scratching his bare chest, which was already criss-crossed with red welts from his fingernails.

They’d brought the Doctor back to his flat via the back door with him covered in a sheet. When he was coherent, he’d explained in an economy of words what had happened. He hadn’t been able to tell them much, because by then the drugs were wearing off. The sensation, other than pain, was of ants crawling under his skin, making him itch endlessly, until he was tearing into his flesh with his nails. They’d propped him up against the headboard of his bed, stripped to his pants because he was dripping with sweat, and put a bin in his lap for the vomiting. Then they’d had to tie him to the bedposts to keep him from scratching, but the soft cotton rope they’d found hadn’t been strong enough. In his demented anguish, he’d torn right through it, heedless of the damage to his wrists.

In the end, Jack had produced a pair of handcuffs. It was a mark of how angry and terrified everyone was that no one made a single comment about him having them handy.

“Water,” the Doctor rasped out.

Rory took the glass that sat on his dresser and brought it to him, turning the straw to his lips. “Not too fast,” Rory warned, but the Doctor was already coughing from trying to drink too much at once. The bassist just sighed. “There’s an easier way to do this--”

“No,” said the Doctor, turning his head away. He was panting just from the effort of talking. “Faster-- this way…” He groaned, rocking back and forth, and squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to bang the back of his head on the wall behind him, but Rory had stuck a pillow into the headboard after the first time the Doctor had done it.

Lips tightening, Rory turned and left the room, setting the glass of water aside as he went. The other band members were sitting in the living room and they all looked up as he returned.

“How is he?” asked Donna, her face pale.

Rory threw himself down onto the sofa next to Mickey. “He seems coherent, but in too much pain to do or say much of anything.” He slammed his fist on the arm of the couch. “Saxon went way too far!”

“It’s got to be connected to Rose,” said Jack. “She hasn’t been back since the day the Doctor reappeared.”

“You think that Saxon attacked the Doctor to get to Rose?” asked Mickey. “Does he know about this?”

Rory shrugged. “He didn’t say anything, but you know his intuition’s sharp. If we can see the possibility, then he probably already knows.”

With a sigh, Jack leaned forward and grabbed the bottle of vodka from the coffee table. He topped up everyone’s glass except Rory’s, who wanted to remain alert in case the Doctor got worse. They’d avoided having to take him to the hospital thus far, hopefully they would continue to be lucky.

* * *

“This is your first appearance since being released after your bout with exhaustion,” the female presenter said with a wide, lipsticked smile. “Are you feeling better?”

The Doctor offered a disarming grin in return. He was a bit thinner since his recovery which, on him, showed more than most, but otherwise he looked the same. “Yes. Completely recovered.”

“So, what do you feel like doing now?”

He leaned on the arm of the orange leather interview couch and winked at the presenter. “Having sex.”

Donna smacked her forehead with her palm. The Doctor was back alright, but she couldn’t help being worried. Whenever he had that particular smirk on his face, it meant he was up to something.

* * *

Rose ducked into the television studio, feeling like a thief. She’d read online that Paradox was filming an interview and she’d snuck out of the hotel without telling Harry she was going. It had been days since he’d visited her, but he still owned the station, so her heart was pounding that he might be there. She had no idea how he would react if he caught her.

A crew member told her that Paradox was currently shooting their interview and Rose checked her watch to note the time. She’d have a few minutes at least…

Feeling self-conscious in the short, posh dress of pale yellow and black lace she was wearing, she went to the backstage area. Harry had stocked the closet in the hotel room with a wide selection of rich and elegant clothing and shoes. Rose hadn’t wanted to touch any of it, but she couldn’t have gone on wearing the same clothes she’d arrived in, so she’d capitulated. She just wasn’t used to wearing such fancy things for everyday. Unless she was going to a club or a wedding or something, she was much more a jeans and trainers girl.

She slipped into the dressing room with the band’s name written on a little piece of card taped on the door. It was empty, as she’d hoped. She took a deep breath and felt herself relax just the tiniest bit, seeing all the trappings of the band scattered around the room. Used cups, instruments, Amy’s hair and makeup gear. She could pretend that nothing had changed for just a little while.

A small jar of sculpting gel sat on the counter before a styling chair and she sat down in it, knowing the Doctor had been there before going on. Leaning forward, she touched each one of his things - his sunglasses, his iPod with his favorite music loaded on it, the keys to his beloved Tardis sportscar. She paused on the little bottle of trendy, expensive body spray and picked it up, spritzing her chest with it.

The spicy and clean scent enveloped her and her breath caught in her throat. It was almost like being embraced by the Doctor.

“Do you miss me that much?”

She gasped as two arms wrapped around her from behind. The scratch of his sideburns against her cheek. “Been a while,” he murmured. “I thought you might have forgotten me.”

He spun the styling chair around, putting his hands on the armrests and leaning down to her. She could have cried just for seeing him again, because it made her notice anew the little quirks about his face that fascinated her. The way his nose crooked just slightly to the right, how his left ear was a bit wonky, the particular pattern of his freckles… Each feature was a band around her heart, a loving ache.

“But that’s not exactly the way I smell, you know,” he said, conversationally. “The scent of the spray mingles with the scent of my body.” He leaned closer and she couldn’t help herself… She turned her face into his collar and inhaled.

Yes. That was it. The missing element. But her body remembered, her nipples tightening, heat curling low and wicked within her. Just from that smell… His beautiful, incomparable, addictive scent. All at once, she remember him making love to her, their bodies sliding together, slick with sweat, him whispering he loved her in a breathless voice. Despite her promise to forget him… her heart and body remembered.

_“Forget him, or I’ll kill him!”_

She gasped as Harry’s words came back to her and she jerked back, then pushed past the Doctor to get out of the chair. “I’m sorry, I can’t-- I shouldn’t even be here--” she said, flustered, making for the door.

He caught her by one elbow. “Wait. What happened to you?” he asked.

She stopped, her back going rigid. Might as well have him hate her and get it over with. She turned around, trying to make her gaze so intense, he wouldn’t see how much it hurt her to say the words. “I slept with Harry,” she told him, amazed that her voice stayed flat and didn’t even wobble. “So, just forget about me.”

She turned to go once more, convinced that she was doing the right thing. This way things could come to an end between them, severing their tie cleanly. She gasped when he grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her back around, pulling her against him, cupping the back of her head with his other hand, and claiming her mouth in a fierce kiss.

Pushing against his chest, she twisted her face away. “No, don’t--” But he only held her tighter, taking the opportunity of her words to plunge his tongue into her mouth. Despite her fear for him, despite everything, she melted as he stroked every place that made her go weak with want. Her resolve buckled and she kissed him back, letting him lead her. She’d missed him so much…

When he finally released her mouth, he rested his forehead against hers, a shuddering breath ghosting across her face as his thumb caressed her cheek. “Don’t you think I know when you’re lying to me?” he said, softly.

She bit down on her lips, tasting him there, and tore herself out of his embrace. She raced out of the dressing room and kept going, leaving the station as fast as she could, pausing only to rip off the stupid heels she was wearing.

Every step she took on the pavement was rough on her bare feet, she felt every sharp pebble, every crack in the sidewalk. She didn’t care. She welcomed the pain. It was nothing compared to the pain in her heart. She couldn’t do this again, couldn’t give in to her need to be near the Doctor. Her selfishness was risking his life.

Harry visited her late that night and, to her surprise, insisted on watching the interview that Paradox had filmed that day. She thought it was because he’d learned that she gone to the studio and this was his way of drawing out whatever punishment he had in mind, but he never mentioned it. He just wanted to see Rose’s reaction to the Doctor’s news.

“What are your plans, now that you’re able to work again?” asked the female presenter.

“Paradox’s activities are being suspended indefinitely,” said the Doctor. “I’m going to be doing some traveling apart from the band.”

The feed had cut immediately to their new music video. Rose’s teacup fell from her hands, splashing the remainder of the tea on the hotel carpet. Harry smirked from where he sat beside her, apparently pleased at her shock.

“He’s running,” he said, turning the television off. “It’s one of the things he does best. He doesn’t want to deal with the reality of you belonging to me, so off he goes.” He tsked, shaking his head. “I’m almost disappointed. I was looking forward to seeing what he would do to try and get you back.” He gave her a lascivious look. “But then, maybe he just doesn’t care for you anymore.”

She couldn’t hide her disgust as she got up from the sofa and distanced herself from him, going to the window to look out at the view. It caused another pang in her heart, remembering that night with the Doctor, but it was better than sitting near Harry.

“I’ve loaded three new songs on this iPod,” he said, pulling the device from his pocket and setting it on the coffee table. “I’m going to be busy this week and I expect you to be as well.” He got up and crossed the room, placing his hands on her shoulders. Rose suppressed the urge to shake him off. “Call me if you’re lacking for inspiration, won’t you?”

Laughing, he moved away and left the hotel room. She sighed, leaning her head against the cool glass of the window.

Why was the Doctor leaving? Was Harry right, did he not care about her anymore? She knew she was supposed to forget about him, that she’d betrayed him by going to Harry, but to have the Doctor leave, to be so far out of her reach… She’d wanted him to hate her, to give up on her, perhaps she should have expected to feel so miserable.

Maybe their love affair shouldn’t even have happened. They were so different, came from two different worlds.

Her mobile on the coffee table chirped and she went to check it out of habit.

It was a text from Jack: _The Doctor is leaving tomorrow. I can take you to see him off._

She hesitated. She shouldn’t. Moreover, she was so ashamed of the way she’d acted in the dressing room. What if he didn’t want to see her and ignored her, or if he was angry? But even so, her heart twisted with yearning. To see him one last time.

Feeling weak and guilty, she texted back the name of the hotel, and a moment later, Jack told her to be ready by eight in the morning. She set the alarm function on the mobile. If she didn’t go to see him once more before he left for who knew how long, she’d regret it.

It was a very long time before she fell asleep.

* * *

“I’ll drop you off and circle until you come back out,” said Jack as they reached the airport the next morning, slowing as they approached the white marked curb. “If I go in with you, it’ll attract media attention. Hey--” He caught Rose’s wrist before she could exit the car. “Tell the Doctor to hurry back, okay?”

She returned his smile with a tremulous one of her own. “Okay. Thanks, Jack.”

As she hurried into the terminal, she was hoping that the Doctor hadn’t gone through security yet, but she needn’t have worried. Jack had timed their arrival just right. It was easy to spot the Doctor at one of the ticket counters, he was surrounded by the reporters Jack had mentioned. They were barely giving him enough room to move forward. Rose didn’t think she could possibly get near him, let alone meet up.

“Doctor, is it true you’re going to America to meet a secret girlfriend?” one of the reporters asked.

“Rumor has it that Paradox is disbanding, is this true?”

“Doctor, do you have a comment on any of the rumors circulating?”

He looked up. Over the heads of the crowd, his eyes locked onto hers and suddenly, she couldn’t catch a full breath as her heart skipped a beat, then thudded in double time. He ducked past the media and ran towards her. The reporters followed. He held out his hand as he neared Rose, but he didn’t slow down. Grabbing her, he said, “Run!” and pulled her alongside, outstripping the herd of media and dodging other passengers in the terminal.

She was glad she’d worn her trainers that day. They were able to evade the reporters and sneak into a janitorial cupboard. He flicked the switch to give them some light and pulled her into his arms. She barely noticed how crowded they were in the small cupboard, surrounded by brooms, mops, and cleaning supplies. The smell of bleach and cloying lemon couldn’t even touch her as she turned her face into his collar and filled her senses with his scent.

He lifted her hand he was still holding to his cheek, nuzzling into her palm, then kissing the center of it. Pulling back enough to see her face, he let her hand drop so that he could drag his fingers through her hair, angling her head for a fierce kiss. His tongue swept her mouth, as if he wanted to memorize every part of it, then he dropped little kisses across her jaw, the apples of her cheeks, and her brow. He was breathing heavily when he held her again, though he hadn’t even panted when running from the press. He curled himself around her, dropping his head to her shoulder.

“Don’t go,” she whispered.

He straightened, cupping her face in both hands. “I have to,” he said, his eyes filled with determination.

She bit her lip. Was this goodbye? Was he never coming back? She couldn’t seem to find the courage to ask aloud.

“Wait for me.”

She blinked in surprise. “What?”

He leaned his forehead against hers. “You are mine, Rose,” he said. “I’m coming back for you. Promise me you won’t let Harry touch you.”

“Then… you don’t hate me?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly. “For going to him?” He just smiled and let her find the answer in the warmth in his eyes. A tiny answering smile teased at the corners of her mouth. “I promise,” she said. “Hurry back.”

With one last quick kiss, he opened the door of the cupboard and hurried out. Rose waited another few minutes, willing the strength to come back into her legs as she propped herself up against the wall. She didn’t know why the Doctor was leaving or when he would be back, but she knew he still loved her and for that… she would always wait for him.

* * *

At the end of the week, Rose went to Masterworks Productions to keep an appointment with Harry. Unlike the treatment she’d gotten from Van Statten, Harry had wanted Rose to hand in her lyrics in person. He’d scheduled her in after his other important meetings and sent the town car for her. Even though he hadn’t been to see her at the hotel all week, he’d given no hints that he was ready to let her go. She supposed as long as he saw value in her as a songwriter, there wasn’t much hope of escape.

He might not see her as all that valuable for long, however. The lyrics she’d been working on all week were half-hearted at best and Harry said as much with a scowl on his face. She let him insult her, not bothering to say it was all she could do under the circumstances. She knew she’d never be able to write for anyone else really well, not without the Doctor to spark her imagination.

Harry turned to see Rose looking out of his highrise window. “Rose!” he snapped in irritation, slapping the paper he held down on his desk.

She jumped. “What?” Her eyes flicked to the paper. “Oh. Right, the lyrics. I’ll rewrite them--”

In one motion, he stood up and grabbed her arm, swinging her around until her back was to his desk. Caging her in, he wrapped an arm behind her back and kissed her. She bit him when he tried to slide his tongue inside her mouth, and slapped him across the face when he pulled back.

His eyes narrowed as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and looked to see if there was any blood. “I see I’ve neglected you too much this week. You’ve forgotten to whom you belong,” he said in a low voice, taking a step forward.

Rose backed away, only to have her bum hit the edge of his desk. He grabbed her by her upper arms before she could edge away.

“Do you know why I haven’t done anything to you yet? I’ll give you a hint: it’s not because I’ve been too busy!” He pushed his face close to hers and she tucked her chin to her chest, trying to get away from him in any way she could. “It’s because it’s pointless to take advantage of you when there’s no one for me to gloat to. But maybe I’ve been mistaken.”

He pushed her backwards and she fell on his desk, landing on top of several sheets of paper, including her own lyrics. The pages crinkled, but Harry didn’t seem concerned. When he moved over her, trying to force her legs open, she pushed at his chest and tried to kick him where it hurt. She shouted for help, but no one came. Even if anyone heard her, they all worked for Harry, they wouldn’t go against him.

He evaded her clumsy movements, ignoring her when she protested over and over. He grabbed both of her hands in one of his, holding them together painfully. With them out of his way, he backhanded her across her face, making her gasp. In her shock, he was able to wedge himself between her legs. She kicked again, but her heels merely hit the side of his desk ineffectively.

Grinning down at her, he pinned her arms above her head. “You belong to me, Rose,” he said. “I have ways of making you obedient to my wishes. If this is what you need to write me better lyrics, then I’m not going to worry about trivial matters such as my brother being absent.”

He pulled up the skirt of her dress and she struggled harder, trying to twist out of his grasp. “No! Don’t touch me!” she screamed.

The door banged open. Harry’s head shot up to see his assistant standing in the doorway, looking nervous. He glowered at the woman, not bothering to get off of Rose, or let her up from where she struggled on his desk.

“What are you doing?” he demanded. “I believe it’s considered rude not to knock!”

The assistant’s hands fluttered as she stood to one side. “This way, sir,” she said in a shaking voice to someone standing outside.

Rose craned her head to look. From her upside down perspective, a man in a sharp blue suit wearing a long tan overcoat strolled in.

“I think you’ll find _you’re_ the one being rude,” said a smooth, familiar voice. “This is _my_ office, after all.” The Doctor removed his sunglasses, tucking them into an interior pocket, and smirked at his brother. With his hair carefully combed back instead of standing up at all angles, he looked every inch a powerful businessman. “I’m the new head of Masterworks Productions. Your replacement.”

Harry backed away from the desk and Rose scrambled off of it as quickly as she was able, tugging her skirt down and straightening the dress. She didn’t quite dare go to the Doctor just yet, not while he and Harry faced off.

“You’re bluffing,” Harry said, glaring. “What proof do you have?”

The Doctor shrugged, carelessly. “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you call our father? I spent a lovely week with him on his private island, claiming my right as his eldest son. All of your power is now mine.”

“That’s why you left,” Harry said, his eyes widening. “You went to Gallifrey to make father happy and take my position.” He began to laugh in a high, hysterical tone. “I was careless! This is just what I was afraid of… That all the status and money would become yours!” He stumbled back, into his tall, leather desk chair, visibly shaking. “I suppose you’re happy now. You’ve won. All the power is yours.”

“That’s right.” The Doctor paused, then reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a folded document. “However, this contract states that everything I’ve received will go back to you…” He looked at Rose. “If you give her back to me.”

It took Harry a few seconds to respond. “What?” he asked, clearly not believing what he’d heard. He got to his feet, coming around the desk to stand before his brother. “You’d give up billions of pounds worth of an estate and the control of the biggest media empire in the world in exchange for one woman?” He laughed again. “You’re mad!”

“Probably. But other than Rose,” the Doctor said with his eyes still locked on her, “I have nothing else that is truly precious to me.” He looked back at Harry and lifted the contract, quirking his left eyebrow.

Harry’s lips tightened, but in the next moment, his shoulders slumped, the fight going out of him. “Fine,” he said, quietly. “I accept your offer. I lose.”

The Doctor grinned and handed the paper over. “Deal,” he said, ruffling his hair and making it stand up, a shadow of his usual style.

Harry opened the contract out of habit, to read it over, but he wasn’t really seeing the words. “How can you do this?” he asked, the astonishment plain in his voice. “Don’t you want power? Status?”

“Those are just things,” said the Doctor.

“Are they?” asked Harry. He shook his head, looking at the floor. “I can’t think like that, I’m afraid.” When he looked back up at his brother, there was a grudging respect in his copper eyes. “But I envy you.”

He took the contract with him as he left the office, leaving Rose and the Doctor alone. The Doctor looked at her, his soft smile making her heart trip and stutter.

“Sorry for the wait,” he said.

“I’m sorry I lied about having slept with Harry,” she said, her cheeks turning pink.

“And?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows.

“And I really didn’t want you to leave a week ago. I guess I should have trusted that you’d fix it.”

He accepted the answer with a little nod. “And?”

She blinked. “And?” She looked at his slow grin and realized what he wanted. With a blinding smile, she ran into his arms, letting him sweep her up. “And I love you!”

He held her so tightly, both arms wrapped around her back, he could almost have touched his own ribs. “How long are you going to stay with me?”

“Forever.”

He set her back down on her feet and straightened so he could look at her face, her beautiful golden eyes, rimmed with glad, unshed tears. “I know,” he said. “I love you, too.” But he didn’t need to say it. She knew. Of course she did. She could feel it in his arms, being held in his embrace, in the touch of his lips as he kissed her.

In a quick movement, he slid his coat from his arms and whirled it around her shoulders. Rose was grateful for the warmth, it was almost like wearing a hug from the Doctor. The sleeves were much too long and the length of it dwarfed her, but he didn’t seem to care if the hem got dirty. With his hand at the small of her back, he led her from the building, his head held high.

When he handed her into the limousine he’d arrived in, she immediately snuggled into his side as he sat down next to her. The reassuring strength of his arm around her, the scent of him surrounding her… She never wanted to be separated from him again.

“I’m never leaving you,” she said, smiling up at him. “You’re stuck with me.”

He grinned. “I’d never let you go, even if you wanted to.”

“Is that a threat?”

“A promise.”

“Good.” She pulled him in by his lapels for another kiss.

Her gasp was swallowed as his hand fisted in her hair, his tongue sweeping into her mouth hungrily. Distantly, she heard a soft hum and opened her eyes to see him reaching above them with his free hand, the privacy screen between them and the driver of the limo sliding into place.

Placing her hands on his chest, she pulled back and hissed, “Not here!”

“Well, then, you shouldn’t have teased me,” he said with a naughty smile. With the screen all the way up and the limo beginning to move, he trailed his hand under her skirt, his fingertips tracing designs on her thigh.

“I didn’t mean to tease,” she said, breathlessly.

He trailed his mouth to her throat, sucking at her pulse point. “I haven’t touched you in a week, Rose. I’ve been going mad, wanting you.”

He brought his other hand to her breast and she arched into his touch. He stroked her nipple with his thumb and he felt it tighten almost at once. Mentally, he cursed the high neck of her dress which didn’t allow him to taste the ripe nub… At least, not without putting two large damp spots on the front of her dress and, through the haze of his lust, he had a feeling Rose wouldn’t appreciate that.

She moaned when he found the spot below her ear that made her shiver. “We can’t!” she said, even as ripples of pleasure tripped down her spine. Her mouth opened on a silent cry and her eyes squeezed shut as his clever fingers worked their way around her knickers. There was a wet sound as he slid two digits inside of her sopping core.

“Liar,” he said, smirking against her collarbone. “Your body knows it wants me.” She bit her lips on another moan as his thumb ghosted over her clit. “Tell me, Rose. Be honest.” He curled his fingers upward on the next stroke.

“Ah!” Her head fell back and when she looked at him again, her eyes were a dark gold, raw with the desire she’d given in to, a passion that rivaled his own. With surprising strength, she pushed him back and climbed into his lap, straddling him. “Shut _up_ and _fuck_ me, John!” she growled, jerkily tugging at his trouser clasp and undoing the zip.

He closed his eyes briefly, a pulse running right to his cock at her use of his given name. While she deftly moved the bare minimum of his clothes aside, he reached into his jacket pocket for the condom he’d stashed there earlier. Knowing he was going to get his Rose back that day, he’d damn well come prepared. She waited just until he’d rolled the latex over himself, then wrapped her arms around his neck, taking his lips with a fury as she lifted herself up on her knees. A long, low groan left him, muffled into her mouth, as she sank down on to him. He was so lost to the sensation spreading through his body, that he thrust himself up, seating himself the rest of the way in one hard, almost brutal movement. She cut off their kiss with a gasp and his eyes snapped open.

“Did I hurt you?” He loved her so much, he thought his heart would burst from it, hurting her was something he never wanted to do. He was already terrified that his hunger for her would crush her, but so far, she’d met him head on and he adored her all the more for it. She was perfect. The emotion he saw in her eyes when she looked at him was a rare gift he didn’t ever want to abuse.

In answer to his question, she tightened her inner muscles around him, making him hiss in a breath and grind his teeth for control. She gave him a sly smile, knowing exactly was she was doing. “More.”

“Vixen,” he said around a smile. He rocked up into her, her halting cry like music sweeter than any he’d ever created. So, he did it again and again, his hand in her hair, his lips at her throat, her body hot and tight around him.

Feeling her muscles start to tighten, he reached between them, circling her clit with his thumb in stuttering, graceless motions. He could already feel the rise in himself, curling tighter with every thrust, and he wanted her to fly with him. Rose began moving faster, grinding herself down onto him, the leather of the seat creaking with each of their movements. He locked his mouth to hers, swallowing every one of her moans, just as she tensed and tipped over the edge. Her core muscles clenched and unclenched as wave after wave of violent pleasure swept over her.

When her eyes opened, looking at him with such naked passion laced with burning tenderness, he shuddered and clutched her hips to hold her still as he surrendered to his climax, pulsing deep within her. He whispered against her ear, breathlessly, laying his heart before her, “Rose, my Rose, I love you, I’m yours, I love you, forever.”

“My John,” she gasped, stroking the back of his head as they each struggled to catch their breath. “Always.”


	8. Dangerous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor is asked to be in a BBC drama opposite someone from his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW.

The Doctor held up one hand to quiet the cheers from the audience. Paradox had received record attendance for their concert following the Doctor’s recovery and week-long hiatus while he’d charmed Rassilon. The roar died down, everyone waiting with breathless anticipation for what he would tell them.

“I’d just like to say one thing before we do our last song,” he said with a brilliant smile. He waited for the moans of disappointment to pass before continuing. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt so happy. I’ve always… felt like I never should have been born. That I’m proof of a sin, something that shouldn’t have happened.” He waited again as the crowd cried their disagreement to the statement. “But recently,” he went on, “I’ve felt needed by someone. And I need them in return.” He ruffled his hair, looking a bit sheepish. “I’m afraid I can’t describe it very well, but I’m sure you understand.” The audience cheered and he smiled his appreciation. “It’s because of you that I’m here.” He gestured to the other members on stage. “And because these guys have stuck with me.” He looked offstage to where Rose waited in the wings, her hands brought together, touching the tips of her fingers to her mouth. “And because of one special woman… that I am able to be here.” He dropped his gaze, tugging on his left ear. “You are all… the reason for my existence.”

The audience went wild, screaming their love for him, as the music for the final song began, but none of them could love him more than Rose did. She blinked, but the tears in her eyes wouldn’t be held back.

After the encore was over and they were all changing in the dressing room, the Doctor noticed the tracks of Rose’s mascara on her cheeks. “Why were you crying?” he asked, sounding mildly concerned.

She grabbed a tissue from Amy’s makeup gear and leaned over the counter to wipe her face. “It’s because your performance tonight was really moving,” she said. “I couldn’t help it. But they’re happy tears!”

He kissed her cheek when she straightened and turned back around, then whispered in her ear, “Save the happy tears for when we’re in bed.”

She blushed and shoved his shoulder. “I was being serious, you perv!”

Van Statten burst into the room, making everyone look up. “Doctor, you’ve been asked to co-star in a BBC drama!” He held up an index finger. “And you’re not allowed to say no, because you agreed to accept any job that turned up when I let you abandon the band while you worked things out with your dad. I’ve already accepted on your behalf.”

The Doctor sighed, his shoulders slumping. Rose could tell he’d been all set to turn the gig down, until the manager had reminded him of the condition he’d set before the Doctor had gone to Gallifrey.

“They want Paradox to do the theme song, so it’ll be our first soundtrack release,” Van Statten went on. “Rose will do the lyrics, of course,” he said with a nod to her. “And your co-star is River Song. She’s apparently a big fan, she asked for you personally!”

The door opened again and everyone looked to see a woman with a wild riot of honey colored curls standing in the doorway. River Song tucked her large sunglasses on top of her head, revealing blue eyes that gleamed with experience without adding the weight of age. She was wearing a tailored black dress, cut low in the front, under a short white trenchcoat, the picture of fame and glamour. A backstage pass hung from a lanyard around her neck. She smirked as her gaze zeroed in on the Doctor.

“Hello, sweetie,” she purred.

The Doctor turned to greet her, a great deal of reluctance in his slow movements and tight jaw, but before he could utter so much as a syllable, River hauled back and slapped him across the face. His eyes wide, he brought a hand to his cheek in astonishment while everyone else in the room gaped at the two of them. Rose covered her mouth to muffle her squeak of shock. What on earth was this about - this gorgeous actress sweeping in and slapping the Doctor in the face? Her eyes darted back and forth between them.

“You’ve always turned down appearing in my dramas before,” River said, putting her hands on her hips. “Explain yourself.”

“I just didn’t want to do drama,” he said, rubbing his jaw lightly. “I wasn’t intentionally avoiding you.”

His tone was neutral, Rose was probably the only one who could see that he didn’t mean what he’d said at all. In fact, the opposite was more likely true as she looked at the dark glitter in his eyes while he glared at the actress in front of him. River just smiled.

“I’m glad to hear it. I look forward to seeing your acting skills.” Tossing a careless wave over her shoulder, she left the dressing room, but the tension remained.

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the back in irritation. “This is bullshit,” he muttered. “I’m not an actor. I’m a musician.” He turned and looked at Rose, who was biting her lower lip and staring at the door. “What’s wrong?”

She jumped slightly, her gaze flicking to him. “Oh… nothing.”

He only frowned at her, but later, instead of driving her to her mum’s flat, they went back to Their Flat; upgraded from just ‘the Flat’ ever since they’d first made love. Tossing his coat over a chair, he grabbed Rose and pulled her into his arms.

“I can still tell when you’re lying to me,” he said, softly. He brushed her hair back from her face. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

She hesitated, but knew that if she continued to fob him off, he’d only get upset for hiding how she felt from him. “You know River Song, don’t you?” she said, softly.

He sighed, but it was one of resignation, as if he’d suspected she would ask. He could probably sense the underlying question she couldn’t bring herself to voice… She wanted to know if they’d ever been in a relationship. Taking Rose by the hand, he led her over to the sofa so they could sit. He stared down at their loosely laced fingers as he answered, “She was… my first.”

Rose’s heart stuttered and her face heated. She knew she had to hear this, but was suddenly unsure if she was ready for what he was going to tell her.

“She was twenty-three, already a popular young actress, and I was fifteen.”

She blinked in shock. He’d been under the age limit, that was a big deal! “Really?”

He nodded, his lips in a straight, thin line. He appeared to be waiting for some kind of judgement on her part, but she didn’t give it. She was merely surprised. Obviously, it had been kept quiet, or that sort of thing would have turned up in her research on the band.

“River was the first one to like my voice and suggest I sing in clubs,” he went on. “When Donna suggested we start performing together, River was the one who convinced me I should do it.”

Rose reached up with her free hand to play with her earring, not quite meeting his gaze. “Were you in love with her?” she asked, hesitantly.

“I don’t know,” he said, truthfully. “I really don’t like thinking about that time in my life.”

“Okay,” she said, looking down at her lap.

“Are you jealous?” he asked, suddenly, sounding a little amused.

Her blush blazed. “Well, River Song is famous and attractive and-- yes, alright, I’m jealous!” She tried to pull her hand away so she could cross her arms, but he wouldn’t let her. Instead, he pulled her closer, wrapping her in a tight hug.

“Greedy woman,” he teased. “River’s just someone from my past. I can’t do anything about the time I’ve spent before I met you.” He leaned in and nuzzled her nose with his. “But my future, on the other hand… that, I can give to you.”

A smile bloomed on her face, utterly melting from his sweet words and touches. “I suppose I can live with that,” she said, touching her teeth with her tongue.

He chased that tiny flash of pink with his own tongue, relief sweeping through him that Rose accepted him as he was. Dating him couldn’t be easy for her, it was normal if she felt insecure at times, but he’d be there to reassure her. She was the only woman for him, now and onward.

* * *

Rose and Van Statten met with the executive producer of the drama to discuss the particulars of the show. As Rose was still the best kept secret in Paradox, a watertight nondisclosure agreement had been signed before the meeting took place. Rose needed to get a feel for the show before she could start writing lyrics, so she was given a copy of the script and freedom to watch the filming.

The theme of the show, _As Starlight Fades_ , was forbidden love; the Doctor’s character falls for an older married woman, played by River. It was slated for the nine o’clock primetime slot on Fridays, so it was almost guaranteed to have a large viewing audience. It was a big opportunity for the band, who would play the theme song.

Rose took her script to the first shooting day so she could follow along with the story. Her free pass on the set was really just an excuse; she was mostly there because she was excited to see the Doctor act and admitted as much to him.

He frowned at her. “There’s no need for you to watch,” he said, pulling on his ear.

She smiled, poking him in the side. “Aww, don’t be shy, Doctor!”

“I’m not shy!” he growled, but it only prompted laughter from Rose.

From her seat in a styling chair a short distance away, River watched the two of them, a tiny crease forming between her brows as she frowned. She snapped her fingers, gaining the immediate attention of a short, mousy haired girl wearing thick glasses.

“That girl,” River said, tilting her chin at Rose. “She’s not a part of the crew, yet she’s allowed to be on set. She’s hanging all over the Doctor. What’s the producer thinking, allowing that kind of thing? The Doctor should be concentrating on _me_. Or else I won’t be able to get into character.” She narrowed her eyes at her assistant. “Do something to get rid of her, Osgood.”

The girl nervously adjusted the long scarf around her neck and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Rose stood near some set flats to one side of the production crew as they prepared to shoot scene twenty-one; where Soren, the Doctor’s character, gets drunk and comes to Nicole’s flat, River’s character. She was so absorbed in reading the script in her hands, Rose didn’t see who bumped into her, knocking her into the set piece she was standing next to and making her fall onto the cement floor.

A creak sounded above her and she looked up to see the large wooden flat beginning to fall towards her. Rose shrieked and covered her head with her arms, squeezing her eyes shut, as the set piece toppled. Something solid wrapped itself around her moments before the crash, taking the brunt of the impact for her.

Easing her eyes open, Rose gasped to see that the Doctor had run to her rescue, folding himself around her body. The wooden flat had broken against his side and back.

“Doctor!” she exclaimed.

“Rose, are you alright?” he asked, his voice a bit strained.

“Of course I’m alright, you idiot, what--” She gasped. Red blood was blooming through his shirt near his right shoulder. A nail or a piece of the broken flat must have gouged him. “Doctor, you’re hurt!”

“Get out of the way!” River ordered the crewmen standing around them to move and rushed forward to see the Doctor’s injury for herself. “Someone call for the on-set medic,” she said, before glaring at Rose. “Who let this outsider in? This is all her fault!”

Rose sat frozen on the floor. Because the Doctor had protected her, they would have no choice but to stop filming and it was her fault…

“Shut up, River, stop being ridiculous,” the Doctor muttered, pushing the woman away as he got to his feet and extended his left hand to help Rose up. “We’re going to film the scene.”

“But you can’t, the scene doesn’t involve you being injured--”

“Yes,” he said, turning toward her and pinning her with a hard stare. “I can. You’re not afraid of a little improvisation, are you?”

River didn’t respond, but whirled around on her heel and took her mark on the set. The Doctor raked his fingers through his hair and, with one hand over his shoulder, walked over to wait outside the door of the flat. At a loss for what else to do, the director called for quiet, to roll the camera, a slate marker, and then action.

A bang on the flat’s door, followed by two more. River left the sofa and went to answer it, but the door slammed open before she could reach it. The Doctor slumped in, breathing heavily, leaning against the door, still clutching his injury. His eyes were unfocused and his hair was wildly disheveled. He smiled dreamily at River, the blissful expression of a man who has known the kiss of one too many alcoholic beverages.

“Soren, what are you doing here at this time of night?” River asked, irritated.

“I knew you’d be alone tonight,” he slurred. “Wanted to see you.”

She made a face as she helped him into the flat and closed the door. “You’re drunk!” Her expression softened minutely as she looked at his arm, the blood dripping over the back of his hand. “And you’re hurt… Who did you fight with?”

Rather than answer, he held his hand in front of him, as though surprised to see the blood. “Oh… I forgot.” He licked the back of his hand, his intense dark eyes on River. “I was only thinking about wanting to see you.” Reaching out, he cupped her cheek, smearing his blood on her skin. River shivered, but she didn’t move away. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I just--” He pulled her into his arms, turning the side of his face into her curls and closing his eyes. “I needed you.”

She stood stiffly in his embrace, not moving to hold him in return, her face betraying her anguish over the situation.

“Cut!” the director called, and the crew erupted into spontaneous applause. “Great job, both of you! Better than the planned scene!”

The Doctor turned away from River and smiled gently, holding out his hands. “Rose.”

The blonde ran to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her nose to his collar. “I’m so sorry, Doctor! It was my fault!”

“Don’t be silly,” he said, threading the fingers of his clean hand through her hair with a slight wince as he moved his hurt arm. “It was an accident. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”

She led him away so that his arm could be looked at by the on-set medic and bandaged. River hugged herself, still feeling the goosebumps from the Doctor’s performance. He was incredible. Just like his music performances, he didn’t do anything by halves. When he took on a project, he wanted to master it. She knew that the Doctor could take on the world if he chose to. Instead, he was focused on some chavvy little girl. He’d continued with the scene, just so she wouldn’t get in trouble for his injury.

River went over to the makeup table and grabbed a wet wipe to clean her face. She eyed the blonde standing next to the Doctor, fussing over him. Who was she to him, really?

* * *

“Ah, look! It’s another advert for your drama!” said Rose, excitedly, grabbing the remote on the coffee table to turn the volume up. The background music was a snippet of Paradox’s new song, the latest she’d written lyrics for, called _Dangerous Thoughts_.

The Doctor growled and wrestled the remote away from her to turn off the telly. “Rose, in case you forgot, we were kissing just a moment ago. Don’t talk business in bed.”

“We’re not _in_ bed,” she pointed out, gesturing at the sofa they were seated on.

“Semantics,” he said, pushing her back down on the cushions.

He’d been extremely busy lately, filming the drama five days a week, and in the slots between, he was promoting the show on chat programs, performing the new song on music programs, and doing interviews for magazines. Rose couldn’t blame him for wanting to forget about work in the precious moments they had alone.

Trailing kisses along her jaw, he ran his fingers through her hair, then lifted his head to smile down at her. “Let’s go on a date tomorrow,” he said. “We haven’t really had one of those, have we?”

She grinned, her heart leaping in excitement. “Really? You have time?”

He nodded. “Tomorrow evening I’m free. Where do you want to go?”

She bit her lip and thought for a moment, but her mind was whirling with all the places she wanted to go with him. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “I want to go lots of places.” She carded her fingers through his hair at his temples, locking her hands together behind his head. “But I guess it doesn’t really matter… as long as I’m with you.”

He leaned down and kissed her softly. “We’ll go everywhere you want, eventually. But let’s start with one.”

She giggled. “All right. Then, how about… a nice restaurant with a great view? London at night sounds pretty romantic to me.”

“Your wish is my command.”

* * *

The Doctor was buttoning up his Oxford when a knock came at his dressing room door the next day. He frowned, because filming had just finished and he was looking forward to his date with Rose. He hadn’t ever really cared about things like that before, having fancy dinners with famous people had just been a way to get headlines before, and a way to get laid. But with Rose, he wanted to do anything, give her anything, just to make her smile.

“Doctor?” He recognized River’s voice. “I’m coming in.”

He’d had a scene to shoot after she’d finished her filming for the day, so River was already changed. Her light green silk dress accentuated her curves perfectly. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, making no effort to hide her appreciation of his body. He turned back to the mirror and turned up his collar, wrapping a tie around his neck.

“What do you want, River?” he asked, trying not to sound impatient.

“You’re free tonight, aren’t you? I checked your schedule with your manager. Come to dinner with me,” she said.

“I have plans,” he said, tightening the knot at his throat and flipping the collar in place. He jumped as her arms came around his waist, her hands caressing his chest.

“Cancel them.” She placed a kiss between his shoulder blades through his shirt. “I want to explore this new body of yours, how you’ve grown up into such an exceptional man.”

He turned around, placing his hands on her shoulders to set her away from him. “River, I’m very grateful to you,” he said. “You showed me how to understand women. And because of that, I’m able to please the woman I love.” He picked up his jacket from the back of a chair and went to the door. “Goodbye.”

River clenched her fists, gritting her teeth. Her gaze fell on a jar of hair gel sitting on the counter and she grabbed it, throwing it at the opposite wall as hard as she could. It made a satisfying smack, but did nothing for her mood. How dare he reject her as if she was nothing! It was all Rose’s fault!

“Um, Miss Song?”

She looked in the mirror to see Osgood standing in the open doorway. “I’m in a bad mood,” River said, understatement of the year. “Whatever it is, tell me later.”

“But I’ve found out some information on Rose Tyler.”

River whipped around. “Well?”

“It turns out, she’s writing Paradox’s songs under a male pseudonym. She’s the lyricist that no one knows anything about.” The girl paused for breath, taking an asthma inhaler from her pocket. “It’s well hidden, but I followed the payroll, so there’s no doubt it’s her.”

The actress smiled, her blue eyes narrowing shrewdly. “Well done, Osgood.” Things were about to get very interesting.

* * *

The Doctor handed Rose into his sportscar with a smile, blatantly looking at her long legs as she swung them inside. The little black dress with lace over the deep cut of the back fit her like a second skin and he was already looking forward to seeing it crumpled up on his bedroom floor in the morning. She wasn’t wearing a bra and that only made him wonder if she was wearing any knickers. He adjusted himself through his trousers before he slid into the driver’s side, already half-hard just from his thoughts.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been for a drive,” she said as he started the car. “I’ve missed it.”

“Heh, really?” he said with an amused smirk.

She didn’t say why, it would only inflate his already enormous ego, but Rose loved to watch the Doctor drive. She liked noting all the little details about him. His confident movements as he handled the stick shift, the way his long fingers curled over the steering wheel, how his eyes would glance at her every so often. All of it made her heart leap and heat rush through her veins. Even his slight leg movements as he moved from the gas to the break and back made her want to touch his thighs. Everything he did just seemed to be utterly sexy.

He braked the car and turned to her, reaching into his jacket pocket. “Close your eyes,” he said.

Expecting a kiss, she did as he said, only to jump slightly as something soft covered her eyes. Her hands flew to her face, feeling a silky cloth there which tightened behind her head. “Doctor?” she asked, startled.

“It’s a surprise,” he said, bringing her hands together in front of her. “And just to make sure you won’t peek…” He wrapped another soft length of cloth around her wrists, tying them securely, but not too tightly. “You trust me, don’t you, Rose?”

She pouted slightly, but said, “Yes, you know I do.”

With her eyes blindfolded, she began to rely more on her ears, listening for clues that would tell her what was going on. She heard him get out of the car and a moment later, the door on her side opened. The Doctor lifted her into his arms. A slight jolt as he leaned against the car door to close it. Then he began walking along the pavement. She squirmed a little, wondering if anyone was watching them. She didn’t hear anyone nearby, but she couldn’t help feeling self-conscious.

“Where are we going?” she asked, bringing her tied hands up to the lapels of his jacket.

“Didn’t you want to go to a restaurant with a great view?” he said, his voice lightly teasing.

The atmosphere changed suddenly and she realized they were inside now, the breeze had ceased and the sounds of the city had almost completely died down. Then he was settling her in a chair. Rose’s stomach swooped a little as they started to move slowly. Were they on an airplane? Taxiing down a runway? Just what was the Doctor up to?

All her thoughts trickled to a stop as his warm lips slanted over hers. She sighed through her nose, eagerly opening for him, letting his tongue tease her with little flicks, making her chase it with her own, seeking more. It wasn’t until he chuckled that she realized he’d distracted her so he could untie her wrists. She reached for him at once, grabbing fistfuls of his jacket, pulling him closer, but he angled his face away, pressing little kisses along her jaw to her neck.

“Let’s save the rest for after dessert,” he whispered in her ear. “We’ve arrived.”

He moved away and Rose reached for the blindfold, pulling it up and over her head. She gasped as her sight came back into focus and the lights of London at night were spread out before her. Slowly, they were rising higher over the panorama and she looked around to find they were seated at an intimate table for two, inside a capsule of the London Eye. She looked across the table to see the Doctor smirking in satisfaction, lifting a champagne flute in a silent toast. The table was laid with a steaming dinner of steak, potatoes, carrots, and asparagus tips, a basket of bread to one side, golden champagne, the bottle in a bucket of ice, and a tall piece of white cake to share for dessert. All in their private bubble, suspended over London.

“Does this meet with the lady’s approval?” he asked.

Despite his teasing tone, Rose saw the glint of worry in his eyes. Her silence had given him space to doubt that his idea was such a good one. Perhaps he thought that she’d wanted to go to a restaurant with him in order to show off whom she was with. She smiled at him, charmed that even someone so confident could worry about her opinion.

“You did all this for me?” she asked.

He nodded, pulling on his ear as he glanced out at the view, then back to her.

“It’s perfect,” she said, blinking back happy tears. “Thank you.”

He smiled back, holding out his champagne glass to her. She picked hers up and clinked it to his. _Best date ever,_ she thought, wondering if she’d ever be able to stop smiling.

After they’d eaten, the Doctor rearranged their chairs so that they were sitting side by side, admiring the view. He wrapped his arm around her and Rose gratefully leaned into him, nuzzling his shoulder with her cheek. She felt pleasantly warm and wondered if it was because she was a wee bit drunk from the champagne or just because of the Doctor’s closeness.

“I’m not going to stop performing anytime in the near future,” he said, suddenly, in a quiet voice. “So, I can’t always see you as often as I’d like. We can’t hold hands in public and just walking around together will be rare. But even so…” He placed the crook of his index finger below her chin and tilted her head up to look into her eyes. “You’re mine, Rose. Only mine.”

Her eyes widened. Was he… apologizing? For wanting exclusivity when he couldn’t give her the usual, simple things that normal lovers had? Reaching up, she grabbed him by his tie, wrapping it around her fist once. “In that case, you’re only allowed to be mine and love only me,” she said with a saucy grin. “Think you can do that?”

He looked surprised for a moment, then smirked before ducking his head down to kiss her. “I want to just eat you up,” he murmured against her lips. “Why did we even have cake? I’ll take you for dessert any day.”

His arms came around her, lifting her into his lap. One hand tangled in her hair at the nape of her neck, the other gripped her hip, keeping her tight against him. This time he gave her the forceful kiss she’d sought before, where it felt as though he would take everything from her and accept nothing less. From the very first moment she’d seen him, Rose had found herself drawn to that aspect of the Doctor. He demanded all, but he also gave all in return. An all-encompassing love that swept her along in its torrent.

As he led the kiss, she released his tie to snake her hand in between their bodies, wanting to be a more active participant. When she stroked him through his trousers, however, he broke the kiss on a grimace and grabbed her wrist, putting her hand back around his neck.

“Not here, love,” he said, tilting his head toward the convex mirrored dome on the ceiling of the capsule that implied their proceedings were being watched or at least recorded. “They frown on that sort of thing at the London Eye.”

“Well, then, you’d better get me back on the ground soon,” she said, giving him a heated look as she raked her hands up into his hair, making him groan. “I’m not feeling very patient.”

“Rose, you have _no_ idea,” he said. When she lifted an eyebrow then glanced meaningfully downward, he nodded. “Well, alright, you have _some_ idea.” He nuzzled her neck, brushing his lips back and forth across the spot that made her shiver. “But I’ve been dying to get you out of that dress since I first saw you in it.”

She whimpered. “Which flat is closest?”

“Mine.”

* * *

It took far too long to get back to the Doctor’s flat, even pushing the bounds of safety in the Tardis. They’d had to pause at the door for another heated kiss when unlocking it took more than a second. The moment they were inside, he had her pushed up against the wall, mouths locked, his hands cupping her breasts, kneading their fullness. Her hands busily undid his tie, then started on his buttons while she still had the presence of mind not to just rip the garment off of him. Reluctantly, he let go of her to remove his jacket and his shirt soon followed.

Rose began unfastening his trousers and he cursed the amount of layers he was wearing. Not wanting to wait any longer to have his burning question answered, he slid one hand along her inner thigh, making her dress creep higher until he found what he sought.

A scrap of satin. Completely sodden.

He didn’t know if he felt smug because she was so wet and he was the reason, or disappointed because he’d been wrong about her wearing knickers. Then her warm hand slid into his boxer-briefs, tugging them down, cupping his hard length, and he no longer cared about the flimsy undergarment, so long as it was easy to remove. And it was.

He grabbed her hips, ready to lift her up, then grunted in frustration.

“What is it?” she asked, breathlessly.

“Condom,” he said, his brow furrowed as he looked down at his jacket on the floor and at the trousers fallen around his ankles. He thought, briefly, of the stash in his nightstand, but knew he wouldn’t be able to reach it without removing his shoes and getting out of his pants and trousers, which would leave him naked in socks. He didn’t think anyone could pull off naked in socks. And this line of thought was a serious boner-killer.

A flash of her tongue in the corner of her smile sent a wave of much-appreciated heat toward his cock. “Don’t worry, I’m on the pill now,” she said. “You’re much too inclined to want sex in strange places and I didn’t want to take the chance we wouldn’t have a condom.”

_“I’m_ much too inclined?” he repeated with a cheeky smirk as he lifted her into his arms, hefting her legs over his hips, helping her to lock them at the base of his spine. _“You_ were the one who wanted to shag on the London Eye!”

“Well, you were-- Ah!”

With a well-placed thrust, he cut off the rest of what she was about to say. He might have continued to tease her, because he loved making her blush and delighted in the fact that he still could make her do so, but he’d been waiting for this moment for too long. The silken feel of her, hot and wet and tight around him without the barrier of latex between, robbed him of all vocabulary except for a long, low groan that didn’t really count as a word.

The position was a tad awkward, only really allowing him to rock shallowly, which wasn’t what he wanted. He needed her harder, faster, wanted to lose himself in her. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one dissatisfied, because Rose unwound her legs from his waist. He prepared to set her back down on the floor, but she only brought one foot down. The other, she propped up on the opposite wall of the hallway leading from the door. With the ridiculous heels she was wearing, she just managed it, angling her hips toward him. Oh, she was a clever girl, his Rose. So comparatively inexperienced, but her intuition was phenomenal, something he was still being pleasantly surprised by. Now given proper leverage, he thrust back into her, holding onto her hips to keep her steady. Her gasp and the long, throaty moan that followed were all the encouragement he needed.

They fell into the rhythm they sought, his breath slamming out of him with every slap of skin against skin. Husky cries and murmured filth poured from both of them, the coil of desire winding ever tighter with each _“fuck,_ John” and “yes--! there--!” He knew he wouldn’t be able to last long, not after being aroused by her all night.

He squeezed his eyes shut, panting, “Rose, you’d better fucking touch yourself because-- _fuck_ \--”

“Come for me, John, please!” she gasped, her mouth opening on a wail as he came at her command, his body going rigid a moment before hers followed. Her nails bit into his shoulders, but he barely felt it. Her inner walls clenched around him, making sensation ripple up his spine with each spasm of his cock.

It was when she brought her right leg down to the floor to join the first, tightening around his softening length even further, that his eyes fluttered open. His head had dropped down to her shoulder, so he took the opportunity to kiss the crook of her neck, then nibbled his way up to her lips. He slipped free of her, the air cool where he was wet with their combined fluids. While he kissed her slowly, languidly, he toed out of his shoes, trousers, and pants, then swept her up into his arms. He patently did not care that he was naked in socks as he walked towards his bedroom with Rose.

Later, after a long cuddle that had ended with her falling asleep, the Doctor was too keyed up to join her. He had snippets of songs running through his head and dearly wanted to compose, but was afraid any noise would wake Rose. He carefully left the bed and went into the sitting room, smiling when he saw all of his clothes on the floor.

He picked them up and fished his mobile out of his jacket pocket, intending to check his schedule for tomorrow. He had several new text messages and opened the first.

It was a picture of him and Rose from earlier that night. They were outside his apartment, kissing. It was obviously him and Rose’s face was clearly visible. A chunk of ice formed in his gut.

The next text was from the same number: **I have more pictures. You can’t buy me off, I’m being paid very well to sell the article and to give you this message. Unless you follow these instructions, I won’t hesitate to ruin that girl’s life.**

The Doctor stared at his mobile, reading the rest of the text with a growing sense of dread. He threw the device on the sofa and went back into the bedroom, needing to see Rose. Gently, he sat down next to her, the mattress dipping under his weight. She stirred briefly, but slept on. He traced his fingertips along her cheek and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. It would kill him to go through with this… But for Rose’s sake, he would.

As silently as possible, he got dressed and left the flat.

When he stood outside the building he’d been told to go to, he heard a clicking sound as he pressed the doorbell to announce his presence. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash and heard another click. The unscrupulous photographer was still at work, somewhere in the shrubs nearby. The Doctor supposed he should have expected that.

River came to the door in a short, black silk robe. He _had_ expected that, so his stoic expression didn’t change. More flashes.

“I’ve been expecting you, Doctor,” she purred.

He said nothing. Of course she’d been expecting him. She was blackmailing him to be there.

“Come inside.”

With a heavy heart, he stepped over the threshold. Once the door was shut, River dropped the robe, revealing an expensive-looking underwear set of a black lace bra, matching knickers, and a suspender belt holding up her sheer stockings. Still, he gave no response, no reaction, but her red lips lifted in a knowing smile, as if believing herself the victor.

“How about I help you remember the past?” she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note to say that the next chapter may be a little while in coming. I am moving from Texas to Washington state in a couple of weeks and must pack up a whole apartment. Also, I need to write a birthday fic for a dear girl whose special day is right around moving day, so my writing time is going to be severely infringed upon.
> 
> My apologies for the cliffhanger! *bows head* Please don't send the angry pitchfork-wielding mob after me!


	9. Twisted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> River continues to jeopardize Rose and the Doctor's relationship. Drastic action is taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit trigger warning for attempted suicide.

The Doctor had not yet returned to his flat when Rose awoke the next morning. She thought for the first hour that perhaps he’d gone to get breakfast or coffee or... something. But as noon approached and still he didn’t appear and her mobile didn’t ring, Rose’s stomach began to twist with nervousness. Where could he have gone? Why hadn’t he left her a note?

Her heart pounded as she heard his key in the door, then the slight creak of the hinges. She raced back to the bed and ducked under the covers, turning away from the bedroom door. As she listened to his footsteps getting closer, she fought to keep her breathing even, feeling stupid for pretending to sleep when she’d been waiting for him the whole time. She just didn’t know how to ask the questions that burned within her mind. The fear of appearing like a clingy girlfriend kept her silent.

The mattress dipped under his weight as he climbed into bed. Her heart leapt again as he curled up behind her, wrapping his arms around her as he turned her around into his embrace.

“Rose? Wake up,” he murmured into her ear. “Please... I need you.”

Melting at his raw tone, her arms came up, her hands fisting in his shirt, as he’d gotten in bed fully dressed. There were so many things she wanted to ask, but... she supposed what really mattered was that he was back. She turned her nose into his collar, breathing him in, feeling silly for doubting him.

* * *

“Good morning,” Rose greeted Van Statten on the set the next day. The manager was sitting near the craft services table going over the day’s script.

He lifted an eyebrow at her. “You’ve been coming by a lot,” he remarked, but there was no censure in his voice.

Even so, Rose blushed a bit. “It’s because I like watching the Doctor act,” she admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind one ear.

“Not sure if you’ll want to stick around today,” he said, flipping a page. “They’re going to start shooting the sex scenes between River and the Doctor.”

Rose’s breath caught in her throat as a lump of ice formed in her stomach. Then she shook her head, trying to brush the jealous feelings away. ‘It’s just acting,’ she thought. ‘It’s part of his job. Stop being ridiculous.’

Despite chiding herself, she still couldn’t help feeling a little betrayed as she watched the Doctor in the bed with River, kissing her with such passion. They appeared nude on camera, and they were from the waist up, but they were actually wearing special undergarments designed for such telly scenes. Still, it looked real enough to the viewer.

“We’ll go to hell for this, Soren,” River said, as Nicole.

“I don’t care,” said the Doctor, in character. She touched his cheek and he held her hand to his face, turning to press a kiss to her palm. “As long as you’re with me, it doesn’t matter.”

“This can never last--”

“It will,” he said, his eyes burning into hers. “Because I’ll never give you up. Not to anyone, not for anything.” He moved then, and she gasped, simulating love-making. He groaned, throwing back his head before looking down at her again, possessively. “You’re mine, Nicole.”

Pain lanced through Rose’s heart, even though she knew, she _knew_ , that they were faking it for the cameras. He was wearing a cock-sock, for crying out loud. Still... it _looked_ real. Real enough to hurt.

The Doctor moved faster, holding River close, and she cried out, moaning and struggling to catch her breath. When he held her face and bit out “I love you,” she arched her back and gripped the sheets, calling out his character’s name.

In amazement, the director called for a cut. The Doctor was out of the bed in a second and grabbing a robe from a team member nearby. He belted it with swift movements, not even looking at River, who was sitting up in the bed and glaring at him.

“I’m taking a break,” the Doctor announced to the director.

The man waved him away as he looked over the footage on the monitor. “Fine, fine. I think we got it on the first take anyway. Great work.”

Around Rose, the various crewmen were talking about the scene, impressed that the Doctor and River were so good, they completed the scene in a single take. One man suggested that maybe they practiced it beforehand, making the others laugh. Rose didn’t feel like laughing.

“You’re here?” came the Doctor’s voice from behind her.

She steeled herself and put on a smile before turning around. He was still wearing the robe, but had pulled on a pair of jeans underneath. “You were wonderful just now,” she said. “Very exciting. And really inspiring. What do they call this... Method acting? Because you had a past together--”

“That’s not funny!” he said, coming closer to her with a scowl on his face. Rose let her fake smile fall as he cupped her cheek. “I only ever think about you, even when I’m acting.” He dropped his hand and turned, heading for his dressing room.

Taking two running steps, Rose threw her arms around his waist, making him halt. “I’m sorry!” she said, her voice slightly muffled as she pressed her face against his back. “I don’t care about your past, I really don’t. I shouldn’t have said anything. It was manipulative and bitchy and-- and-- and I’m sorry, okay? I know you’re just doing your job.”

He chuckled softly and turned in her arms, touching her lips with his index finger to stop her chain of apology. He smiled and leaned down to whisper, “You know, thinking about you during that scene got me a bit hot and bothered.” He held her closer and rolled his hips against hers, making sure she felt his half-hard cock. “I hope you’re prepared to take responsibility for this tonight.”

She blushed. “You perv!”

His only answer to that was to kiss her cheek and waggle his eyebrows at her as he smirked.

* * *

Rose stood outside the soundstage at the end of filming for the day, waiting for the Doctor to change clothes so they could head back to The Flat. When the heavy door opened, she looked up expectantly, but it was River who exited. The older woman smiled at her, but there was no warmth to it.

“Aren’t you Rose?” she asked. “Waiting for the Doctor?”

“Ah, yes,” said Rose, feeling uncertain. River was stunning close up, with all that gorgeous hair, and considering her past with the Doctor, it was a bit intimidating to be alone with her.

“I’ve listened to the songs you’ve written for Paradox,” River said, and Rose’s eyes widened in astonishment.

“How did you know that I’m the one who wrote the lyrics?” she asked, the nervous butterflies in her stomach whirling madly.

“It quite shocked me,” River said, ignoring the question as she carelessly pushed her curls over one shoulder. “That such a young girl could write such salacious lyrics and also be involved with the Doctor.”

A surge of adrenaline punched Rose in the gut. Reaching out, she grasped River’s sleeve urgently. “Please, you can’t tell anyone!” she begged. “If you do--”

“Oh, you mean it was a secret?” River asked, her crystal eyes blinking in surprise. “I’m so sorry, I accidentally slipped it to the reporters of the Daily Mail when I was being interviewed.”

“But... why?” Rose asked, breathlessly.

River shrugged. “I thought the buzz would be good press for the drama.”

Rose stood frozen to the spot as River moved past her, heading for the car park. Van Statten’s words came back to Rose with stomach-churning clarity. _‘If people found out that Paradox’s erotic lyrics were written by a twenty year old girl, their image would be destroyed.’_ And what about the fans? Would she be attacked again? She wrapped her arms around herself, shaking. What should she do?

She told the Doctor immediately when he emerged, dressed in his street clothes. “What are we going to do?” she asked him when she’d finished explaining. “We could have been photographed anywhere!”

“Hmm,” was all he said in response. He kept walking toward the car park, pulling a pair of sunglasses from the inner pocket of his jacket. He didn’t seem concerned at all that, once he was out of the ‘closed set’ area, he’d no doubt be swamped with the media.

“Doctor, aren’t you listening?” she asked. “This could be trouble for the whole band!”

“He’s come out!” a voice shouted and instantly, flashbulbs were going off, a crowd of people surrounding the Doctor.

He stood silently as they all started yelling at once, asking him for comments. Rose hung back, feeling sick. With the secret of the lyrics revealed, Rose’s connection to the Doctor would be questioned, her privacy would be forfeit. The media might even bother her mum, what would she do then?

“What are your ties with Miss Song?” asked a reporter.

Rose looked up in shock. _What?_

“You’ve been communicating frequently with her,” another reporter said. “Is your relationship more than platonic?”

The Doctor smirked and smoothly said, “Yes. She’s the one I treasure most in my life.”

Rose gaped at him as the press continued to shout their questions. What on earth was he _doing?_

* * *

River burst into his dressing room the next morning, fuming. She slapped a gossip rag down on his makeup table and demanded, “What the hell is this, Doctor?”

He glanced down at the paper. A photo of the Doctor at River’s front door with her in the black silk robe graced the cover, accompanying a by-line of ‘Scandal of the Year! On-Screen Love Becomes Real Life Love Affair!’ He chuckled to see her blackmail used against her.

“You bastard, you used me!” she spat. “Compared to the news about your lyricist, you knew that this would attract much more media attention!”

“You were the one who tricked me first,” he said, calmly. “It was you who paid that photographer to take pictures of me and Rose.” He looked at her, his dark eyes sparking with warning. “If you had just left well enough alone, you wouldn’t be involved in a scandal now.”

“You--”

In a flash of motion, he had her backed up against the wall, the flat of one hand slamming next to her head. She gasped. He leaned down, narrowing his gaze at her. “Don’t underestimate me. If you try to hurt Rose again, I will do everything in my power to take you down.” Trailing his hand away from the wall, he patted her cheek and grinned. “But everyone thinks we’re lovers now,” he said in a falsely sweet voice. “So, play nice, love-muffin, or you’ll be blamed for breaking my poor heart. Don’t think that will do your reputation much good, now, will it?”

He leaned away and went to the door, whistling cheerfully.

“You’re a demon,” she said in a low voice, containing her fury because she knew he’d won.

He just smiled back at her and gave a cheeky wink. “I’ll take that as a compliment, sugar-lips.”

* * *

Rose fidgeted with her hands as they drove away from the BBC later, heading for the Doctor’s place. The Flat was closer, but he just said he liked seeing her in his own bed when she mentioned it. She’d been quiet since, picking at her cuticles, and trying not to think about the question she really wanted to ask. She’d seen the picture of the Doctor and River in the paper and had recognized the clothing as what he’d been wearing the day he’d come home after being out all night. She knew now that he’d gone to River and doubts were roiling in her mind.

“Go ahead,” he said, suddenly.

“What?” she asked, turning her head to look at him.

His focus stayed on the road, but his voice was gentle. “You’re all quiet and fidgety. You want to say something. So, go ahead, it’s alright.”

She took a deep breath. “That night when you were out,” she began slowly, “you went to see River.” She made it a statement rather than a question and he nodded. “Did you... I mean, did anything--”

He released a long breath through his nose. “We kissed,” he admitted around a grimace. “But I only got her drunk and waited for her to pass out. Nothing else happened, I promise.” He pulled into his parking spot and stopped the car. He turned to face her, his deep brown eyes full of apology. “I know I should have told you, but I didn’t want you worrying about her blackmailing me. I thought... I could just handle it. But I still should have told you my plans. I’m sorry.” He made a gesture, as though about to reach for her, but hesitated, his expression uncertain. “You believe me, don’t you?”

She smiled and leaned over the stick shift to give him a hug. “Of course I do,” she said.

He beamed at her when she pulled back and cupped her cheek with one hand. “I don’t deserve you,” he said, warmly.

“Nope,” she said, cheekily, touching her tongue to the corner of her smile.

He chuckled. “Come on. I’ll cook you dinner.”

“Yeah?” They left the car and headed upstairs as Rose teased him about keeping emergency services on speed dial in case he poisoned her.

He glared at her, but there was no anger behind it. “I’ll have you know, Rose Tyler, that I had to cook most of my own meals growing up, so--” He stopped, holding out his arm to prevent her from moving forward, every line in his body going tense.

“What is it?” she asked, looking past him to his door.

It was just slightly ajar.

“Rose, stay in the hall,” he said, steel in his tone.

She scoffed and stayed at his side. “I don’t think so.”

He didn’t argue with her again but his jaw was tight as he pushed the door open. Rose gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth, but was too shocked to scream. The Doctor grabbed her, pulling her face to his chest, shielding her from the gruesome sight, but the scene was etched on the backs of her eyelids in stark relief.

River Song. Face down on the hardwood floor in a pool of her own blood, a straight razor still held in one hand.

* * *

They followed the ambulance to the hospital and waited while River was in surgery. Rose clasped the Doctor’s hand for strength, feeling like she could hardly breathe. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before the surgeon emerged.

“She’s fine,” the man in the green scrubs said with a light smile. “Her life’s not in danger. The wound was very shallow, so it was fairly easy to stitch up.”

Rose released the breath she’d been holding and crumpled against the Doctor. His arm came up around her, holding her up, but he made no outward expression regarding the news about River. “Thank God,” she whispered as twin tears fell down her cheeks. “Can we see her?”

“She’s not awake yet,” said the surgeon. “But you’re free to wait.”

The Doctor wanted to go back and inform the necessary parties, the BBC and her manager would be frantic, but Rose insisted on staying, assuring him that someone should be there when River woke up. She waited at the woman’s bedside, watching her shallow breathing, her face so pale, her curls lying limply over her pillow.

Rose was lightly dozing in her chair when she heard River stir in the hospital bed. A glance at the clock told her in was still the small hours of the morning. She stood up with a smile, clutching at the railing near River’s head.

“What-- Where--?” River mumbled, her voice thick and groggy.

“You’re in the hospital,” said Rose. She reached over for the red button that would alert the medical staff. “I’ll let them know you’re awake--”

“I didn’t-- I didn’t die?” River asked and Rose froze. River wasn’t looking at her, she was holding up her heavily bandaged wrist in confusion. Her expression crumpled and she covered her face on a sob. “Why didn’t I die? Without the Doctor, my life means nothing! Why--” She rolled away from Rose, crying pitifully.

A pang in her heart, Rose reached for River’s shoulder, but stopped before touching her. It wasn’t her comfort that the other woman needed. Rose doubted that her presence was even welcome. She hurried out of the room and closed the door, leaning against it. She felt so badly for River... Wasn’t there anything she could do to help her?

“Rose.”

She looked up and saw the Doctor headed down the hall toward her.

“Have you been here all this time?” he asked.

She nodded, avoiding his gaze. “She just woke up.” She pushed away from the door and hurried past him. “Please, stay with her. I’m just... going to the ladies.”

He stared after her, conflicted, but in the end, he opened the door to River’s room with a sigh. He frowned when he saw her sitting up in bed, smoking a cigarette, holding it in her uninjured hand. She smirked at him with the air of someone who’d just captured a powerful chess piece.

“What a naive girl,” she said, obviously referring to Rose. “I didn’t know you went for those types. Your image is going to go down the drain because of her. Break up already!”

The Doctor closed his eyes briefly, making an effort to ignore her words, then reached into his jacket and pulled out the morning edition of the newspaper. He tossed it onto the foot of her bed. “The media doesn’t know about your suicide attempt. The hospital has also promised to keep it quiet, for both our sakes.” His jaw tightened a second before he whirled around, punching the wall with barely restrained strength. “You never intended to kill yourself, did you?” he demanded, his eyes flashing with dark fire as his temper flared to life. “You’d ruin your reputation if the media found out about this. Does it really hurt you _that_ much, that I’m with Rose, that I chose her? So much, that you’d stoop to such manipulative tactics?”

“I did it because I love you!” she exclaimed, her face so open that he could nearly believe that she meant it. “I only want your love back in my life.”

He leaned down over her bed, reaching out to hold her jaw with one long-fingered hand, brushing his thumb at the corner of her mouth. His eyes were as cold as ice as he stared down at her. “The next time you feel like dying, give me a call,” he said, his voice low and hard, leaving no doubt as to his meaning. “I’ll help you.”

He turned and left without another word, letting the door fall shut behind him. River glared at it as she violently stubbed out her cigarette on the little table next to the bed. Silently, she vowed that this wasn’t over, not by a long shot. Not when the Doctor had bruised her dignity so badly.

* * *

He found Rose waiting out by the Tardis, looking down at the pavement. “Ready to go?” he asked, trying to infuse some cheer into his voice as he fished in the pocket of his jeans for his car keys.

“I... I don’t want you to look out for me anymore,” she said, haltingly.

He stopped short, confused. “What are you talking about?”

She wouldn’t look at him, just kept her eyes on the ground and wrapped her arms around herself. “I cause you nothing but problems. There was that mess with Harry, and then River tried to kill herself,” she said. “I just make things complicated by being with you, all because you’re trying to protect me!”

Closing the distance between them in one long stride, he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into his embrace, wrapping one arm around her back and tangling his other hand in her hair. “You think I care about that?” he asked, fiercely. “Problems go away. What we have is once in a lifetime!”

“But I’m a burden to you,” she said, pushing back to look up at him.

His wide eyes betrayed the pain in his heart. “So... what? You think we should break up?”

“Yes,” she said, barely able to get the word out, the tears in her eyes overflowing.

He stumbled back, catching the side of the car to steady himself, unable to say anything. Without him there to hold her, Rose’s knees gave out and she fell onto the hard cement. She gulped around her tears, clenching her fists on her thighs. The Doctor stared into nothing, the edges of his vision blurring. Time seemed to slow as he watched the rest of his life unfold in shades of black and gray. Without the color Rose had brought into it. An endless void.

“But... I can’t,” she said, finally.

He blinked, his vision clearing as he felt time resume normally with the beating of his heart. “What?”

She shook her head, looking up at him miserably. “I can’t break up with you. I love you! And I can’t make myself care that I’ve become selfish--”

“Rose, _I’m_ the selfish one!” he said, sinking to his knees in front of her. “I don’t care what happens to me, as long as you’re happy and safe, that’s all I care about! There’s no logic to it! My body starts moving on its own and it’s like I can’t see anything else, can’t think about anything besides protecting you!” He brought a hand to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt. “You... changed me. I didn’t care who I hurt before. You made me better.”

“Doctor,” she choked out, and he pulled her into his arms again.

“You can’t run from me or our problems, Rose,” he said. “But I’ll always make sure that you’re safe. And I’ll always love you.”

“Even when I cause you trouble?” she asked as he kissed her forehead, tenderly.

He smiled. “None of that matters.”

* * *

“Doctor, _please_ , go to the photoshoot!” Van Statten appeared two seconds away from getting down on his knees and begging, right in the middle of the rehearsal space. The Doctor ignored the manager and continued working on his current composition on the keyboard in front of him. “You can’t just refuse to show up to any job where Miss Song is going to be! I don’t care what problems you’ve had, you can’t be so irresponsible!”

Both men looked up as the door banged open. River stood there, a long-sleeved jacket covering the bandage she still wore around her wrist. “You’re a difficult man to track down when you’re avoiding someone,” she said, irritably. “Stop being so foolish and juvenile. Limiting your publicity will only be harmful to your image.”

“You can talk about being juvenile,” he said, making a notation on the sheet music propped against the piano stand. “You’re the one who did the classic ‘cry for help’ just to get my attention. And you still don’t get it.” He pinned her with a knowing look. “The only one whose image will be hurt is yours.”

“Miss Song!” As if on cue, River’s assistant Osgood trotted into the rehearsal space, the tails of her scarf flapping behind her. Her eyes were wide and frantic and she clutched a tablet in her hand as if it was a lifeline. “Bad news!”

“What is it?” River snapped, upset at the interruption.

“Your two next television appearances were canceled!” the mousy girl exclaimed.

River grabbed the girl by her multi-colored scarf. “Why?”

Osgood gasped and reached into her pocket for her inhaler. “Because--” She breathed in her medicine before continuing. “They know if you come, then the Doctor won’t show up, and...” Her voice became smaller, apologetic, since River was the type to shoot the messenger. “They’d rather have the Doctor. His audience is bigger.”

River let go of her assistant, numbly, realizing what the girl said was the truth. Her draw was waning with her age and the Doctor had only just started gaining massive popularity. Of course he would be the hot ticket. She might be respected in the acting world, but numbers were numbers, and she was just riding his coat-tails.

The Doctor laid down his pencil and stood up, leaning against the side of the piano and stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I warned you,” he said. “I told you if you hurt Rose again, I’d do everything in my power to bring you down. And she was hurt by your little stunt at the hospital.”

River clenched her fists and whirled around to face him. “I don’t understand how you can go to such lengths for that girl!” she said, angrily. “You were never like that before! You never cared about the women you were with, you just used them!”

“You’re right,” he said. “But I’d never been in love before.”

She blinked, stunned into silence.

He tilted his head, looking at her curiously. “Haven’t you ever loved someone? Held them while you slept because you didn’t want to be separated in the night? Done anything you could to ease their pain if they got hurt or sick?” He pushed away from the piano and went to her, leaning down to look her in the eye. “If you can’t understand even these simple feelings, then how can you act those types of roles so well?”

Her mouth dropped open, but nothing came out. She had no answer for him.

Moving past her, he opened the door and gestured out. “If you understand, then please leave. I’ll go to the photoshoot tomorrow as my final assistance in your career.”

Before River could move, the door to the sound booth opened and everyone turned to see Rose standing there. It was obvious from the compassionate look on her face that she’d heard everything.

“Doctor,” she said, crossing to him, “please don’t do this. Don’t destroy her career because of me.”

“Oh, don’t,” said River, tossing her hair and looking away from the two of them. “I couldn’t bear pity from _you.”_

“I don’t pity you!” said Rose, narrowing her eyes at the spiteful woman. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt. I understand why you love the Doctor, of course I do, but I love him more!”

“Is that so?” said River, putting a hand on her hip. “You think you know so much about love? What are you, barely out of school?”

“It’s true, I’ve never been in a relationship like this before,” said Rose. “But I was willing to give the Doctor up, even though it broke my heart, and we fought to be together. Now, having worked this hard, I can’t let him go.” She turned to him, grasping his sleeve. “Doctor, please don’t do this. Don’t sink to her level. You’re better than this.”

He glanced at River, then back to Rose and sighed. “Your wish is my command,” he said, finally. He touched her cheek, running his thumb along her lower lip as she beamed at him. “It boggles my mind... but I swear, I’d do anything to see that smile.”

River swept out of the room as the Doctor leaned in to kiss Rose. Osgood and Van Statten followed her. The manager paused a few steps away as the two women reached the lift.

“If you go against Miss Tyler again, you’ll regret it,” he said.

River looked back at him, her brows drawing down. “Excuse me?”

“The Doctor never opened his heart to anyone before,” said Van Statten. “He had the air of a stranger. It was part of what made him unique, it gave him a mysterious allure. But lately, he’s been laughing and smiling during television interviews. It’s attracted a lot more of the media and increased his fanbase.” He angled his head back at the rehearsal room. “That girl has changed him. She’s his whole world. And right now, he has enough power to destroy any celebrity he wishes. So, I would be very, _very_ careful, if I were you.”

“Are you threatening me?” she asked.

“It’s a warning,” said Van Statten. “Anyone who makes an enemy of Rose Tyler makes an enemy of the Doctor. Rose is...” He paused, searching for the right words. “We value her.”

River lifted her chin, observing the manager as though considering his words. When she turned back toward the lift, Van Statten returned to the band, certain he’d gotten his point across.

* * *

The next day, River called a press conference and  appeared before the media to announce that she and the Doctor had ‘broken up.’ The press was eager to know why their romance had ended so suddenly. She gave the cameras a brave smile, even as her eyes watered.

“We were both very busy,” she said. “And we’re just at different places in our lives right now.”

“Do you still love the Doctor?” asked a reporter.

“Yes,” she said, simply, brushing a tear from her cheek.

“Is there anything you’d like to say to him now?” asked another.

She glanced down. When she looked up, two more tears fell, but her smile was dazzling. “I’d like to tell him thank you,” she said in a watery voice. “For all the beautiful memories.”

Van Statten clicked off the television in the Kasterborous conference room, where he and Rose had sat down to watch the interview. “Nice,” he said, nodding his approval. “No damage to anyone’s reputation and she comes out of this smelling like a rose. Um--” He glanced at the girl next to him. “Pun not intended.”

Rose just rolled her eyes.

“Still, I have to admit she’s good,” he said. “Smiling through tears like that. It’s no wonder she’s such a famous actress.”

Rose didn’t comment as she got up and left the room. She wondered if River’s tears actually _were_ just an act. For all the woman’s scheming, Rose thought that River really didn’t want the Doctor to hate her. She thought that maybe River really _did_ love him... in her own way. Perhaps she’d never know for sure. As Van Statten said, River _was_ a great actress.

With a sigh, she resolved to put it out of her mind and headed down the hall toward the vending machines. She wondered if the rest of the band might like to take a break from rehearsing and reached into her pockets to see how much change she had. If she had enough to buy a soda for all of them, then--

“OW!”

As she turned a corner, there came a loud shout of pain from below her and Rose jumped, leaping nearly three feet sideways, with a cry of surprise. She stared at the man who sat up from where he’d been lying on the floor. He brought both hands up to his head, floppy light brown hair, groaning. She’d stepped on his hair! He whipped his head around to glare at her over his shoulder, his bright green eyes flaring with irritation.

“What on earth are you doing, woman?” he snapped.

“I’m so sorry!” Rose exclaimed, holding out both hands in a gesture of apology. “I didn’t think there would be anyone sleeping on the floor...”

The man’s eyes had gone wide with shock. He stumbled to his feet, all elbows and knees, and leaned in close, staring at her. “Susan?” he whispered.

She blinked. “Who?” But her question was muffled against his chest as he had suddenly wrapped his arms around her and was twirling her around, her feet stumbling to catch up with his exuberant dance. She didn’t know if he was laughing or crying.

“Susan, you’re really alive!” he cried.

“Um, I’m sorry,” she said, pushing against his chest, ineffectually. “You’ve got the wrong person--”

Rose was suddenly yanked backward, into a pair of familiar arms. She looked up to see the Doctor glaring at the strange man.

“What business do you have with Rose?” he demanded, holding her protectively.

The man stared at the two of them. “R-Rose?” he repeated. The energy seemed to drain out of him and his shoulders slumped forward. “Right… Of course,” he said, dejectedly, running his hands through his slightly too-long hair as he muttered to himself. “She’s been dead for over a year now... She could never be here.” His head jerked up, as if just noticing they were still there and he backed away from them. “Sorry... You just... look so much like my cousin. I thought--” He waved his hands. “Never mind.” He turned, giving a slight wave and a sad smile. “Sorry.”

As the Doctor led her away, Rose couldn’t help but look over her shoulder in the direction the odd man had gone. She looked like his dead cousin? The poor bloke. No wonder he’d looked so shocked and had grabbed her like that.

She didn’t think she’d ever see him again.

Until she saw the band opening for Paradox’s next concert, a small group called Geronimo. Their singer was the man who’d called her Susan!

Rose’s mouth dropped open. She recognized the song the man was singing, she’d heard it on the radio a lot lately. The band was number two to Paradox. _He_ was the one who sang it? Such a haunting melody and his voice was so heart-breaking. It was completely different from Paradox’s music, but still quite compelling.

Just who was he?


	10. Separation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Doctor goes on tour for a week, the singer from Geronimo has a bizarre request for Rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW and also contains non-con.

“What do you mean, I can’t see you for a week?” Rose asked from where she sat on the Doctor’s bed. She bit her lip to make sure she wasn’t pouting. She didn’t want to look  _too_ disappointed, as it would only swell the Doctor’s ego, and it was already the size of a small country. 

“The tour starts in Scotland and I can’t come home between gigs,” he said, his voice a bit muffled.

The Doctor was on his hands and knees, rummaging around the floor of his closet. One of his favorite ties had fallen off the rack, to land in dark corners unknown, and from his current position, his perfectly shaped bum was on display for Rose to admire. She placed her hands behind her on the mattress and leaned back on them, appreciatively ogling the sight before her. Like two large apples, just waiting for a bite--

Her eyes snapped to his face as he straightened up and looked over his shoulder. He lifted one eyebrow suspiciously when she innocently smiled at him.

“Don’t you go replacing me while I’m gone!” he said, sternly pointing at her.

“Oh, that’s mean!” she said. “You know I’d never do that.”

He didn’t look convinced as he leaned back down and began searching for the tie again. “You say that now, but I see the way blokes look at you and-- Ah ha!” He got up, triumphantly holding the swirly-whirly tie over his head with a grin.

She giggled, rolling her eyes a bit, but loving him all the more. “Well done, you,” she said, resisting the urge to applaud for him.

He slung the tie over his shoulders and swaggered over, his eyes betraying a dark, teasing twinkle. “Roooose,” he crooned softly as he leaned over her, placing a hand on either side of her thighs. He brushed his nose along hers, but avoided kissing her, grinning wider when she made a frustrated noise. His playful attitude was punctuated by his next, excited, statement: “Let’s take a bath together!”

Her eyes widened. She’d been expecting him to say something suggestive, but not that!

* * *

The Doctor was definitely NOT pouting as he glared at the bathwater he and Rose were currently sitting in. She’d put in so much bath salt, the water looked like milk. Plus bubble bath on top of it, encasing them both in luxurious, fragrant bubbles. 

He couldn’t see  _anything_ , and that had been the whole  _point_ . He’d wanted to know what Rose looked like, all wet with her hair put up and little tendrils falling loose and clinging to her neck… And he’d thought that wet Rose-breasts might even be nicer than dry Rose-breasts, but he’d needed to check. For science.

But she sat at the other end of their large, spa-type tub, her knees pulled up to her chest, so he couldn’t even touch her legs, her cheeks very pink, as if she was still the virgin he’d first met. They’d been intimate many times now, so of course he knew what she looked like naked, but she was still so shy sometimes. It was usually adorable. Right now, though, it was frustrating to a very specific part of his anatomy.

Abruptly, he stood up. “Rose, this is silly,” he said, inwardly pleased at how her mouth dropped open as her eyes fixed on his bobbing cock, her gaze glazing over a second later. “The water’s  _opaque!_ Why would you agree to this, if you didn’t want me to look at you?”

Her blush deepened. “Well, I don’t think I would have, if you hadn’t distracted me with all the kissing… The next thing I knew, my clothes were coming off--”

“I remember,” he said with a filthy grin. “I was there.” His hands on his hips, he gave a slight sigh as he looked down at her, appearing so small, covered in bubbles. “I think a bath was a bad idea.” 

Before she could react, he lunged forward and pulled her into his arms, lifting her up and making her shriek. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life as he deftly stepped out of the tub and onto the mat, praying that he wouldn’t lose his grip. After a moment where he made sure of his balance, he carried her into the glassed-in enclosure that housed his shower.

“Much better,” he murmured as he set her down, crowding her against the wall with his body. The shock of the cold wall at her back contrasted with the warmth of him along her front and she shivered. “I’m going to enjoy scrubbing you clean, my dirty girl,” he said, his lips against her ear, as he reached for the taps on either side of her.

She gasped as the water poured down, a bit colder than lukewarm at first, but it was quick to heat up. As her flimsy covering of remaining bubbles all washed away, Rose reflexively covered her chest with crossed arms, blushing again. She closed her eyes, thinking maybe it wouldn’t be so embarrassing if she couldn’t see him staring at her.

“Rose,” he said in a low, husky voice. “You know better than that.”

Her eyes flew open as he grabbed her wrists, pinning her arms above her head against the wall. He was pressed against her, their faces scant inches apart, his eyes so dark, they appeared a fathomless black.

“You’re only teasing me when you hide like that, and you know I can’t stand a tease.” 

He took her mouth with a ferocity that bordered on desperation, his tongue plunging inside, stroking and gliding along every secret place that made heat gather low within her. His kiss didn’t tease, it told her exactly what he wanted. He slid kisses from her lips along her jaw, then traced the delicate shell of her ear before nipping at the lobe.

“I hadn’t planned on taking you right here,” he said. “But since you insist on teasing me…”

His hands trailed down from her wrists, sliding along her arms to find her breasts. He lifted them to his greedy mouth, cupping their fullness as he pressed hot kisses to her wet flesh. Despite the steamy heat of the shower, her nipples pebbled as he circled each aereola in turn with his tongue, coming slowly closer to the pearled buds, driving her crazy.

He shifted his stance and she felt his foot move between hers, nudging her legs apart with a firm pressure. Normally, Rose might have felt nervous about slipping, but the Doctor seemed so confident in his movements, just like always, she absolutely trusted him. With the tile wall to brace herself against, she slid a foot to the side, allowing him to move even closer to her.

His leg hair rasped along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs and she couldn’t help the moan that escaped her when he pressed against her wet heat. His head came up at once, kissing her as if to swallow that sound, to learn how it tasted and felt on his own tongue. When he pulled back enough to let each of them gain a full breath, she realized she’d been grinding herself against his thigh and stilled at once, mortified. But before a single syllable of apology could be uttered, he grasped her hip and moved his leg, dragging against her clit and earning a groan as her eyelids fluttered shut on a flash of bliss.

“Don’t stop,” he said, his voice gone raspy. “I want to see you come undone. So hot for me, you’ll use anything to get yourself off.”

His words sent a jolt of arousal straight to her core and her clit twitched. Biting her lip, she rolled her hips again, each movement sending waves of minute ecstasy through her and erasing more of her inhibitions as he whispered filth into her ear. His cock was thick and heavy against her lower abdomen, but still he encouraged her to keep going. Incredibly, he grew even harder as he watched her get herself off against his leg. This was turning him on! At the back of her hazy mind, she wondered what it would be like if he watched her masturbate directly. Oh, she hoped she would remember that for later… 

When she felt herself getting close, he noticed the change in her pace and breathing and reached down to grab her arse in both hands. He assisted her movements, pressing his leg against her harder.

“That’s it,” he growled through clenched teeth, his words running together, his voice stoking her passions higher. “That’s it, my beautiful Rose, you’re gonna come for me, I want to see your gorgeous face when you come, using me as your fuck toy. I want you so bad, I’m so fucking hard for you, Rose, but I can’t have you til you come. God, you’re so fucking hot, I can feel your hard little clit rubbing against me, please, Rose, please, come for me--”

Pushed over the edge by his filthy, tender,  _wonderful_ words, her head fell back against the tile wall as she keened out her release. Her body went rigid, but the Doctor helped her to keep moving, to ride out the wave of orgasm with little, jerking motions. White stars burst behind her closed eyes and her limbs shook, her legs on the verge of giving out, if not for the Doctor holding her up. 

His arms came around her, cuddling her close, as her breathing began to slow. One of his hands came up to tangle in her hair, pulling out the clip that held it up and tossing the plastic gadget over the top of the shower door. It clattered to the bathroom floor and he couldn’t have cared less where it ended up. He needed to see her hair down, long and wet and dripping, clinging to those luscious breasts.

Turning her in his arms, he positioned her with his hands, guiding her to bend forward at the waist. She leaned her forearms against the wall in front of her and he brought his hands to her hips, his fingers curling around and digging in just slightly. They were shaking from the need to take her right then, but still he waited. Knowing he wasn’t going to see her for a full seven days, he wanted to remind himself how sweet anticipation could be. 

The spray pounded down on her back, the water sliding down her spine and onto him as he rubbed his painfully hard cock in the cleft of her arse. Bending his legs slightly, he let himself dip between her legs and she moaned as he thrust against her, rubbing against her wet nether lips, nudging her still-sensitive clit. Her thighs were soft and slick, but no true match for what it felt like to be lost inside her.

He leaned down, draping himself over her back, using one hand to position himself at her entrance, the other coming up to possessively grasp one breast.

“Tonight, Rose,” he rumbled as he teased her with the head of his cock, “let me fuck you a week’s worth.”

* * *

Rose winced slightly as she climbed out of the back of the hired car the Doctor had procured for her use that week. Her lower back was killing her, on top of the soreness her lady parts were experiencing. ‘A week’s worth,’ she thought, wryly, as she walked into Kasterborous that afternoon. 

She’d be feeling it for a week, alright. The Doctor had been insatiable! They’d shagged in the shower until the water went cold (a nasty shock to both of them), then he’d turned on the fake fire in his bedroom and laid their towels out in front of it. He’d licked her to orgasm twice before he’d gotten hard again, then taken her on her hands and knees. The fire had become too warm by then, so they moved to the bed and shagged with her on top, her on her side, finishing on her back (because she’d been too exhausted to do anything but lie there). He’d fallen asleep on top of her. Well, actually, she suspected he’d passed out. She hadn’t been far from that herself.

When she woke up, it was well past noon and she was alone. Mild disappointment had shot through her, even though she knew he’d had to leave early that morning. 

She’d found a folded piece of lined paper sitting on top of her mobile with ‘check your pictures’ written on the outside in the Doctor’s rushed handwriting. When she opened up her mobile gallery, she’d found that he’d taken a picture of them while kissing her cheek. It was a little dark and blurry, but she loved it. Unfolding the paper, she read:

_I had to kiss you goodbye, but didn’t want to wake you. This way, you know that it really happened. Not that you wouldn’t believe me if I just told you… It’s really early. I hope this makes sense. I’m not sure I’ll remember what I wrote later._

_I love you._

_See you in a week._

_I’ll call you, it'll be late._

She giggled, remembering how the last two lines looked like they’d been written in a hurry, all slapdash and the words running together. Donna had probably been pulling him out the door, stage-whispering that they were going to be late.

In the lift, Rose placed her hands on her waist and leaned backward, grimacing as she gently stretched. She was going to go right to The Flat and soothe her poor protesting muscles with a hot water bottle after checking with Romana about work. After all, if the Doctor was working with the band this week, she wanted to be working, too. Romana would have a better idea of what direction the next project would be going in--

Rose froze coming out of the lift as she saw the floppy haired singer from Geronimo talking on his mobile in the hallway. He was also on Kasterborous’s label?

“Yes, mum,” he was saying, his voice low and calm, even though every line of his posture spoke tension. He paced slowly, his free hand on his hip. “Yeah, don’t worry about it… Look, I’ve got to go to a meeting now, so I’m hanging up, okay?... Okay… Okay, bye.”

Rose startled when he glanced up at her and she turned to head down another hallway, wanting to avoid an awkward confrontation.

“Oi!”

She cringed as she heard quick footsteps behind her, her stomach forming a pit of dread, but she tried not to show it on her face as she turned back around.

“It’s Rose, isn’t it?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of her. “I have a favor to ask.”

She blinked. “You do?” What favor could he possibly need from a stranger?

* * *

Rose nearly choked on her tea. “You want me to pretend to be your dead cousin?” she sputtered.

His name was Matt. He’d pulled her into Geronimo’s break room and poured her a cup of tea, then nervously sat beside her and fidgeted with his fingers while he tried to find a way to ask her his bizarre request. Nothing could have prepared her for what he said. 

“I know it’s mad, but please, hear me out,” he said, holding up his hands as though to calm a scared animal. “First of all, you should know that Susan and I weren’t actually related. We were adopted separately. I called her my ‘cousin,’ because I couldn’t really see her as my sister since there was no blood tie. Our mum couldn’t have children and she loved us as though we were her own, but she’s never accepted Susan’s death. She lives in denial… a fantasy world of her own creation. I still see her every day and it’s so hard…” He took a deep breath, shoving a hand through his hair, which flopped back down into place. “So hard to pretend. To not show my own grief.” He bowed his shoulders, his head drooping as he stared at the carpet. “There’s never been anything I could do to make her feel better.” He looked up at her again, his green eyes full of hope. “Please,” he begged, reaching for her hand. “If you could just do this… maybe it would help her. Somehow.”

She hesitated. “Do I really look that much like her?” she asked.

A sad smile wreathed his lips as his eyes flicked over her face. “Well, she wasn’t blonde like you, but mum won’t notice that,” he said. His expression became far away. “Susan had dark hair, curly.” He gestured with one hand to imitate the volume around his own head. “But she had the same hazel eyes. Same… s-smile…” He turned away, pressing his mouth shut and closing his eyes, obviously fighting back tears.

Her heart went out to him, she didn’t even bother correcting him about her golden eyes. And his poor mother. How could she refuse when it seemed like such a simple thing to do, pretend to be Susan for one night? And if it would help a sick woman… She nodded. “Alright, I guess.”

He looked back at her and beamed, squeezing her hand. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

She bit her lip. She was glad Matt was happy, but it weirdly felt like she was going behind the Doctor’s back while he was out of town. She didn’t see the harm in it, but she didn’t tell the Doctor when he called that night. How could she possibly explain it?

* * *

Rose sat back from the small round table, feeling like she might not be able to eat ever again. Matt’s adoptive mother, Idris, a slender woman with dark eyes and a cloud of black hair, had made all of Susan’s favorites for dinner. Rose hadn’t had the heart to tell her no when she handed over a plate piled high with a little of everything.

The large house looked as though it had been passed down for generations, with furnishings and decorations spanning at least five decades. Rose wondered if there was anything in it that either Matt or Idris had actually bought themselves. None of the china they’d eaten off of had matched, but there was a nostalgic, charming feel to it, even if it gave Rose a touch of a  _Hoarders_ vibe.

Rose rubbed her belly and suppressed a burp. Matt eyed her apologetically, conveying with his expression how grateful he was that she was doing this, and a little of her discomfort edged away. Until Idris emerged from the kitchen, holding a pie in her oven-mitted hands.

“I made your favorite apple pie, Susan!” she said, a blithe smile on her puckish face.

At Rose’s nauseous look, Matt turned to his mother and said, “Mum, I really don’t think Susan can eat anymore. You cooked enough to feed an army!”

“Oh,” Idris looked at the table as though just realizing. “I suppose I got excited about your visit and over-did it. I’m so sorry…”

Idris looked so sad over the prospect of disappointing her children that Rose’s compassionate nature got the better of her protesting appetite. “It’s okay, mum,” she said, handing over her plate. “Apple pie goes in a different stomach.”

The woman’s face lit up and she cut Rose a slice of pie. She was only able to eat a couple bites before she passed the rest to Matt, but Idris just seemed happy she’d tried it.

“Oh, Susan,” she sighed. Reaching over, she gently touched Rose’s cheek. “You’ll always be my baby girl, won’t you?”

Rose was amazed that Idris really seemed to think she was her daughter. And as awful as it sounded, Rose was almost enjoying being a part of their little family. Growing up, it had just been her and her mother, Jackie. She’d always wondered what it might be like to have a sibling, and Matt was so sweet, so attentive to Idris. She would have liked to have had a brother like him.

When Idris began yawning, Matt helped her to her room, leaving Rose alone momentarily. She wandered to the fireplace where numerous framed pictures were crowded on the mantle. Rose blew out a silent whistle when she saw Susan’s face. They could almost be twins, except for their hair. Perhaps that saying about everyone having a double somewhere in the world was right.

She turned at the sound of footsteps and saw Matt coming into the living room. He bounced on his toes once and brought his hands together in front of himself. 

“Thank you for doing this,” he said, quietly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her smile.”

“Susan was a very lucky girl,” Rose said. “To have a family who loves her so much.” They were silent for a moment, she wasn’t sure what else to say. She’d had a nice time, but wasn’t sure if she should tell him that, considering the circumstances for her visit. Finally, she cleared her throat and gave him a smile. “Well, I guess I should go…”

“Um…” He scratched the side of his head, awkwardly, then gestured with the same hand. “This isn’t much of a thank you, but… would you like to watch some rare Paradox videos with me?”

Rose’s interest perked immediately. Rare videos? A chance to see a side of the Doctor she didn’t know?

“Susan was a fan,” he said with an embarrassed smile. “Especially of the Doctor. She had a lot of early footage from when the band first got together. You seem close with the Doctor, so I thought it might be fun.”

It was very tempting. It wasn’t like she needed to get back to The Flat anytime soon. There was no one waiting for her. And she actually really  _would_ enjoy seeing some of the Doctor’s early work. Guilt pinged at her conscience, though, so she gave Matt a caveat, “Well, okay… but only for a little while.”

* * *

Susan’s childhood room was kept in pristine condition. From the spotless daisy-spray duvet to the white ruffled curtains framing the window, it was as if she’d just stepped away for a moment. And, Rose supposed sadly, that might just be the reality for Idris. The small television was situated against the wall near the end of the single bed, so Rose sat gingerly on the mattress.

The picture quality of Susan’s old VHS tapes wasn’t great, it looked like a copy of a copy, but the sound was decent and they must have been very difficult to get ahold of. Matt told her as it started that the footage couldn’t even be found on the internet anymore, then took a seat on the floor near Rose’s legs.

Rose’s jaw dropped when she saw a guy about her own age singing on the stage in acid washed jeans and a ripped t-shirt, his long brown hair falling in slight waves almost to his slim waist.  _“That’s_ the Doctor?” she exclaimed. She broke out in giggles because he was gorgeous even then. She couldn’t decide if she kind of dug the hair or if it was kind of ridiculous.

The camera panned over to show Jack with lots of bleached hair held back by a headband, Donna with an outrageous perm, Rory with shoulder length hair and a goatee, and Mickey wearing his hair in long cornrows with beaded ends. “Oh, my  _God,”_ Rose said, her hands pressed against her mouth to suppress her laughter. “Were they a  _hair_ band? This is too much!”

Matt grinned. “When they got signed with Kasterborous, they had an image makeover. I think the only one who was disappointed was Jack. And it took forever for that perm to grow out of Donna’s hair.” The song ended and the footage cut out. Matt turned the sound down until the snow gave way to another segment. “Okay, now, this is from five years before that… Back when it was just him and Donna.”

Rose’s eyes were glued to the screen as the shaky camera went out of focus in the dark room, then sharpened on a young man sitting at a sleek black piano. His hair wasn’t waist length, but still appeared a little too long as it almost covered his ears. He had it parted down the middle, making wings on either side of his face. The formal tuxedo he wore only emphasized how skinny he was. Eighteen year old Donna stood nearby in a conservative black dress, playing a violin, the sound blending beautifully with the piano.

This was John Noble, before he was the Doctor, before Paradox. His voice, though young, without the depth and character age brought with it, was still gorgeous, hypnotic, full of emotion. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. As the tape played out, Rose found herself falling in love with every version of him.

When Matt hit ‘stop’ and got up to remove the tape from the player, Rose let go of a deep sigh. She was so glad she’d stayed, she felt like she’d gotten to see a hidden layer of the Doctor. 

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Matt,” she said with a smile.

He placed the tape on top of the television and stared at her. It took her a second to realize… he was looking right through her. In that moment, it wasn’t Rose he was seeing. How many times had he sat in this very room, indulging Susan in watching her favorite performer with her?

Slowly, his gaze dropped and he released a shuddering breath. The hand nearest her clenched tightly. “There’s something I didn’t tell you,” he said in a low voice. “When Susan died, I lost the ability to believe in anything.” He looked up, his face full of that same desperation he’d had when they’d first met. “You’ve given it back to me.” He took a step closer and reached out, tracing her cheek. Rose flinched. “The same face, the same voice…” He gulped. “But someone I’m free to love. Someone I don’t have to call ‘cousin’ out of guilt for my feelings…”

Rose’s eyes widened. “What are you saying?” she asked, edging backward on the bed, trying to find an opening to bolt for the door.

“I loved Susan,” he said. “With all my heart. But in the eyes of the law, we were siblings.” He smiled. “Now, there’s you. I can know Susan completely!”

He fell on her suddenly, knocking her backward onto the mattress, kissing her passionately. Rose twisted her face away, telling him to stop, but he focused instead on her neck, licking and sucking at the junction of her shoulder. His lower body laid to the side of her legs and she tried angling herself away from him in order to kick, but he just threw one of his legs over, the position worse now, as he had her completely pinned.

“Matt, no! No!” she cried, trying to get her arms between them so she could push him away. “Stop it!” But he wasn’t listening. She felt his teeth graze her neck as he grabbed her hands and held them away. He moaned softly, rutting against her, and Rose’s skin crawled. “Get  _off!”_ she demanded, trying to twist herself out of his reach. Finally, she yelled at the top of her lungs, _“I’m not Susan!”_

That seemed to shock him back to reality as he gasped and lifted his head, his green eyes wide. At the same time there was a dull pounding from the floor. “What’s with all the shouting?” came Idris’ muffled voice from below.

Taking advantage of Matt being put off balance, Rose shoved him away and scrambled out from under him. She clutched her collar closed at her neck, feeling exposed in the simple mauve dress she’d chosen to wear.

“I’m sorry you lost Susan,” she said, the statement coming out more fierce than compassionate. “And you’re probably feeling really confused right now, but I am  _not_ her! I’m Rose Tyler! Okay?”

She turned and flung open the door, leaving the house as quickly as she could, ignoring him when he called, “Wait!”

Rose ran all the way back to The Flat, not even bothering with a taxi or the Tube. She needed to feel her lungs burning for air, her muscles screaming for her to rest, all in an effort to put the horrible experience behind her. But she could only think about how wrong it had been… In love with his adoptive sister and projecting it onto Rose? There was something the matter with him!

Once inside, she about tore her clothes off and threw them in the direction of the bin, never wanting to see them again, then went to the ensuite to start the shower. She felt like she needed to scrape her skin off to be clean again.

Her eyes caught her reflection in the mirror and Rose gasped, stepping closer to the glass, hoping she hadn’t just seen--

A dark purple mark marred the place where her neck met her shoulder. Dimly, she remembered Matt’s attention to the spot and the feel of his teeth. She shuddered, covering it with her hand. What was she going to do? 

She swallowed hard remembering what he’d said,  _‘Don’t you go replacing me while I’m gone!’_ Rose would never do that, she loved him. But if he saw that hickey, then he’d think-- A lump grew in her throat. He’d think she’d cheated on him!

She turned from the mirror and stepped under the spray, prepared to take the longest shower of her life. Maybe the mark would fade before the Doctor returned… 

* * *

“Oh, God, not this song again,” said Jack, walking over to the radio from the back of the tour bus. He went to turn the device off and Donna smacked his hand away. “Ow! Donna!”

“I’m listening to that!” she said.

“You’ve heard it at least a dozen times between Scotland and here! Now we’re finally on our way home and I don’t want to meet Ianto with red eyes! I’m tired of crying!” said Jack. “That song is too heart-wrenching!”

“What song?” asked the Doctor, glancing up from his composition sheet.

“That one the Geronimo band plays,” said Jack. “They played it when they opened for us. It’s called… um…  _Requiem_ , I think. It’s about his lover dying.”

“What?” The Doctor’s eyebrows drew together. “His _lover?”_ He got up and went to the radio, turning it up. “All of you, shut it!” he barked. Everyone in the bus fell silent as the Doctor stared into space, listening to the lyrics of the sad ballad.

_My voice and my tears mingle, falling down,_   
_Baptising your ice-cold face._   
_If I could trade this sorrow for your smile,_   
_I’d gladly have taken your place._   
_Too late to confess my love,_   
_A love you would only condemn._   
_My feelings become the flowers that blanket you._   
_Angels hear my requiem…_

The Doctor didn’t stick around to hear the rest of it. He stalked up to the front of the bus where their driver Alonso sat behind the wheel.

“Alonso,” he said, startling the young man a bit.

“Er, yes, Doctor?” Alonso asked, trying to give him his attention and still keep his eyes on the road.

“Punch it.”

The Doctor pushed down on Alonso’s driving leg, making him depress the gas pedal. The tour bus sped up on the abandoned road leading out of Northumberland. Alonso gripped the steering wheel even tighter as he exclaimed in shock. The Doctor ignored his protestations, his dark eyes fixed on the horizon through the windshield.

“Get us to back to London as fast as you can.”


	11. Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor discovers that something happened between Rose and Matt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW!
> 
> Explicit trigger warning on this chapter for violence and some sexual violence.

The door to The Flat banged open and Rose jumped from where she sat on the sofa. She was startled further to see the Doctor coming in and flinging the door shut behind him. She got to her feet, confused. She hadn’t expected him until the next day, and they were supposed to go out with the band to celebrate the end of the tour. What had happened? Had the final gig canceled at the last minute?

“Doctor,” she said by way of welcome as he shucked the leather jacket he was wearing and tossed it carelessly aside, sending his sunglasses in the same direction a moment later. “You’re back early! Did something--” Her words died on her tongue as he looked at her, the intense expression on his face making her fall silent. He didn’t smile. He didn’t close the distance to hug her. He didn’t even say anything. Something was the matter.

She didn’t believe she’d done anything wrong by not telling him about Matt, but she still swallowed down a wave of guilt and unwittingly clutched the collar of her blouse tighter around her throat. His eyes narrowed on the gesture and her heart thudded.

She tried to smile through her nerves. “Is everything--”

He came forward then, so suddenly it made her gasp, and he grabbed her hand, pulling it away from her collar. With his other hand, he tugged her blouse open so hard, a button flew off. The hand on her wrist tightened and her face heated, knowing he’d seen the mark that still marred her skin.

Turning away, he pulled her with him through the door of the bedroom. She tried to resist, knowing that they had to talk about what happened.

“Doctor, wait, I can expl--”

“That bloke gave you that, didn’t he?” he spat, dragging her around and pushing her onto their bed. It didn’t really sound like a question.

She tried to sit up, holding her blouse closed with one hand. “I--”

He shoved her down, straddling her waist, not giving her an opportunity to explain. “That guy who said you look like his cousin,” he said, grabbing her wrists and holding them to the mattress on either side of her head. “What did you do with him while I was gone?”

Rose trembled. His face was so close, their foreheads nearly touched. The fire burning in his eyes frightened her. He’d never spoken to her like this before! He was _livid_. She didn’t know what to do, what to say…

“Tell me!” he demanded, making her flinch at his tone. He pushed her arms over her head and pinned them with one large hand.

“I-- didn’t do anything!” she stammered, but it was clear the Doctor wasn’t listening.

“Did he hold you like this?” he asked, leaning down. She felt the scratch of his one-day stubble on her cheek. “What kinds of filthy things did he whisper to you?” he said in her ear, his voice soft, but with the bite of a razor’s edge.

“Doctor, stop it--”

He let go of her, but she cried out in alarm as he grabbed her blouse and ripped it completely open, revealing her white lace bra underneath. She half turned over, gripping at the duvet, to try and scramble away. He wrapped his arms around her, his wiry strength keeping her on the bed, even as she kicked her legs.

His breath was hot on the back of her neck as he shoved her bra up and palmed her breasts. “Tell me what sounds you made when he touched you,” he said. “Were they different from the ones you make with me?” He brought one hand up, spanning her jaw, his fingers splayed across her mouth. “Was he good, Rose?”

She grabbed at his hands, trying to get him to let go. “Doctor, don’t do this--” she pleaded. “Please!”

His answer was to bite the opposite side of her neck from the mark. He lifted up a little, only to push her fully onto her stomach, bringing her arms above her head once more. He yanked at the collar of her blouse, tearing the garment halfway down her back, his anger driving him to discover if there were any more marks she was hiding.

She turned her face to the side, but couldn’t really see him in her peripheral vision through the haze of tears beginning to cloud her eyes. “Doctor,” she sobbed, the tears spilling over. “Stop… Please…”

His breath slammed out of him at the sight of her crying. He stood back off the bed at once, but Rose didn’t move. She’d given up the struggle, even as she gave one last plea for him to stop. What the _fuck_ was he _doing?_

Her shoulders shook and he reached out to touch her automatically, to comfort her. He stopped inches from her back, clenching his fist. He was a bastard. He was still angry… but it wasn’t at her. He didn’t deserve to touch her.

He went directly into the enclosed shower fully dressed and turned on the cold water. He was drenched in a matter of seconds, the water effectively cooling his temper. He felt like something that should be scraped off a shoe. Why hadn’t he just _listened_ to her? He’d charged right in, letting his anger lead him, and he’d taken it out on her merely because she was there. Now she’d seen him at his worst. He’d let her think he might _hurt_ her. She’d hate him just as she surely believed he hated her.

Turning off the water, he went back into the bedroom, dripping everywhere. Rose was still weeping on the bed, just as he’d left her. The sight of her ripped top, her rucked up skirt, her knickers halfway down one hip, made his heart clench. _He’d_ done that to her.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a rough voice. “I’m so sorry. No one should ever treat you like that.” He needed her to know his reasons before he left the flat, even though they didn’t excuse his behavior in any way. “When I heard his song about his lover dying and put together that it was his cousin, I… I _knew_. I had to see you, to make sure that he hadn’t-- But then I saw that mark on your neck and--” He swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. “It hurt so fucking much, I couldn’t even think. I was out of my mind with anger.” He turned to leave, hating himself and knowing it would be the last time he saw her and hating that even more. “I’m so, so sorry, Rose.”

“Wait.”

He froze, not daring to hope. He should keep going, he should let her be free of him, she deserved so much better. The selfish bastard in him kept him still, waiting, needing to hear what she would say.

She sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the mattress and pulling the tattered remains of her blouse around her shoulders. “I just want you to understand what happened,” she said, sniffling. “He asked me to pretend… for his mother. She’s sick. I couldn’t say no. And then--” She shuddered, ducking her head. “He tried to force me. I know now I shouldn’t have gone, but--” She looked up, her eyes fever bright with tears. “Please, believe me. I _didn’t_ sleep with him. I swear.”

His shoulders slumped a bit further with every word. “I know,” he said, quietly.

“What?”

He turned, regret written in every line on his face. “I know I can trust you, I do, I just--” He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. “I was so afraid.”

When he looked at her again, she was biting her lip, her gaze uncertain, but she held out her arms for him.

He ran the few steps separating them, falling to his knees in front of the bed and burying his face in her lap. Over and over, he apologized, for being jealous, for abusing her, saying there was no excuse, that she shouldn’t stay with him, and calling himself every name he could think of. She was quiet, stroking his hair as she let him babble.

She wasn’t ready to forgive him, but she wasn’t willing to give up just yet either.

* * *

“You want to change songs?” said the production head. “But it’s a request show.”

Paradox was performing on a variety music programme the next day, alongside several other bands. Fans had all voted online for their favorite songs and Paradox was slated to perform one of their first really popular numbers called _Fake It._

“Yeah, but it’ll be fine, trust me,” said the Doctor.

The man shrugged and scribbled a note on his clipboard, turning to inform the teleprompter and give the host a head’s up.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

The Doctor’s spine went rigid as he heard the voice that wouldn’t leave his head. He turned to see the floppy-haired, bow-tied wanker that had touched _his_ Rose standing nearby with a stupid smile on his face.

“Geronimo’s not on telly all that often, and yet, both times we are, your band is on as well,” he said. “Coincidence can be funny…” He trailed off as the Doctor stalked right past him, clearly not in the mood to converse. The smile fell from Matt’s face. “So, what’s the deal with you and Rose?” he asked, all pretense of friendliness gone. He tilted his head toward the back wall where Rose stood, waiting to watch the bands without being in the way. “You’re always together.”

The Doctor gave a dark chuckle and half-turned back to smirk at Matt. “You seem like a clever boy. You figure it out.”

“Paradox!” the stage manager called. “We’re ready for you!”

The Doctor turned and acknowledged the call with a wave of his hand, then looked at Matt one more time, the smirk replaced with a serious frown. “I’ll tell you one thing, though,” he said. “Touch my wolf again and you’re gonna get bit.” Without another word, the Doctor moved to take his position in front of the cameras with the rest of the band.

Rose sighed as she watched Paradox take up their instruments. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself. She’d been feeling insecure ever since the incident at The Flat. It had only been a day and yet, she and the Doctor hadn’t talked much since it happened. She could only guess that he was still working out his feelings, just as she was.

“This week,” the programme host said with a smile, “we bring you an all-request special! Ninety minutes of your favorite songs, by your favorite artists! Next up, we have Paradox and the ballad you voted number one online!”

Rose looked up, confused. Ballad? She knew the script said the song requested was _Fake It_ and that definitely wasn’t--

“Here they are,” the host continued as the cameras switched to the band, “with _Song to a Wolf!”_

Rose covered her mouth as the Doctor began to sing the song he’d written for her, the one he’d used to tell her he loved her. Her heart pounded and tears welled up in her eyes. He’d changed the song… for her. His eyes sought her out at the back of the sound stage, his performance for her alone. She bit her lips on a rush of emotion.

_I guess… I guess this means we’ll be okay,_ she thought. Absently, she brushed a tear from her cheek and smiled. They weren’t perfect, they both made mistakes, but in the end, the Doctor loved her and she still loved him.

When the song ended and the production paused to switch instruments for the next band, Matt strode over to where the Doctor was standing with the other members of Paradox.

“Wolf girl, huh?” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “So, you and Rose are lovers.”

“The penny drops,” said the Doctor, turning to face the other man fully. He drew himself up to his full height, a couple of inches taller than Matt, he noted with a tiny bit of satisfaction. Jack prodded the Doctor with an elbow and, reluctantly, he said, “I’m going to forget what happened with you and her, because we think it’s best to move on. But don’t try me again.” He stepped forward, leaning toward Matt intimidatingly as he issued his final statement. “You get one warning. That was it.”

Matt looked up at the Doctor, his green eyes fairly shooting sparks as he grit his teeth. The Doctor didn’t even blink.

“Doctor!”

They both looked up to see Rose hurrying over with a smile on her face.

“Did that song mean--”

Suddenly, Matt darted forward and grabbed Rose. He wrapped his arms around her and held her away from the Doctor, who instinctively widened his stance, ready to rip into the other man.

“You stay away from her!” Matt shot out. “I lost her once and now she’s come back to me! She’s not meant for you!”

The Doctor’s jaw tightened, creating a deep dimple in his cheek. “You…” With a brief tug-of-war, the Doctor pulled Rose away from Matt, then spun back around. His arm arced through the air and his clenched fist crashed into the side of Matt’s face. “You sick fuck!”

“Doctor!” Rose cried over the growing commotion on the sound stage. Production had halted completely as everyone rushed over to see what was going on.

“Back the hell off!” Matt shouted, recovering from the punch quickly to strike at the Doctor, landing a hit to the Doctor’s cheek, almost hitting his left eye.

“I’m gonna kill you!”

“Stop it!” yelled Rose as the two men continued to fight. “Do something!” she said to the crowd at large.

“You heard the woman! Stop him!” Donna shoved Mickey forward and the shorter man grabbed the Doctor from behind, under his arms. Donna covered her face. “I meant the _other_ one!”

But Mickey hung on, not knowing what else to do, and the Doctor’s whipcord body twisted and jerked to get free. “Doctor, cut it out! You shouldn’t be fighting, not here!” Mickey said, struggling to maintain his hold.

“Get _off_ me!” the Doctor grunted.

Seeing his chance, Matt went to charge the Doctor, but he was too slow. The Doctor saw what he was about to do and swung up into a massive kick to Matt’s face, using Mickey as leverage. Matt fell on the ground with a thud - down, but not out.

“Mickey!” shouted Jack, as if Mickey had actually _planned_ to help the Doctor.

Mickey dropped the Doctor’s arms at once, but that only led to a continuation of the fist fight. Seeing what had happened with Mickey, no one else was eager to try and stop the two men, except for Donna. Jack had to hold her back from jumping in and finishing what her brother had started. The situation was completely out of control.

“Come on, chinny, get up!”

“Come at me, sandshoes!”

* * *

Later, in the Paradox dressing room, Van Statten looked like he might have a coronary when he got a look at the Doctor’s injuries. He’d sustained bruises to his chest and hands as well, but his poor battered face had taken the brunt of it.

“How many times do I have to tell you - the face is critical!” the manager bemoaned.

“The _voice_ is critical,” the Doctor argued, rolling his eyes, then winced. He gingerly touched the area around his left eye, which was beginning to darken and swell.

“I tried to stop him,” Mickey said, meekly.

“You helped him kick,” said Jack, who was leaning against the makeup counter with his arms crossed, very unhappy with his bandmates.

“Not on purpose!”

_“I_ helped stop him,” said Rory. “Look what I got!” He pointed at his bruised jaw, then held an ice pack to his face with a grimace.

Donna wasn’t in the room. She was refusing to speak to the Doctor at the moment, which meant she was saving up her rage for when she was alone with him. He wasn’t looking forward to it, by any stretch of the imagination. Donna could be truly frightening when worked into a good rant.

Rose sat down next to the Doctor, a first aid kit in one hand and a wet tea towel in the other. Her expression was stormy and he avoided looking at it, not wanting to see just how mad she was at him.

“You idiot,” she said, cupping his chin gently so she could wipe away the blood that had dripped from his nose and split lip. “Why did you do that?”

“Because he’s dangerous,” the Doctor said, passively letting her tend to him, even though it hurt. “And because I love you.”

She paused, a blush heating her cheeks. He was always acting impulsively because he loved her and it made her crazy, but she still loved him. “I’m not saying it’s okay,” she said, getting back to cleaning his wounds. “But thank you for wanting to protect me.”

* * *

“Are you _insane?”_ Clara shrieked at Matt in the Geronimo dressing room, her brown eyes wide with incredulity. “You _slept_ with _the Doctor’s_ girlfriend?”

“Not yet,” said Matt, distractedly, as he busily fished cotton balls and antiseptic gel out of a first aid kit.

“You son of a bitch,” said Danny, shaking his head. “No wonder he kicked your ass.”

Matt glowered at his petite guitarist and dark-skinned bassist. He gave as good as he got and no one was impressed. He turned away from them to face the mirror and focus on getting the disinfectant on his cuts.

“I just hope this doesn’t become a big thing,” Clara said, pacing the small space, her dark shoulder length hair swinging on every turn. “We still want to have a _career_ , after all, and Paradox is still number one on the charts!”

Matt sighed and stuck a bright blue plaster on his chin. “I just… don’t want to waste my second chance.”

* * *

Rose came into Kasterborous late the next day. She wanted to avoid as many people as possible because she knew there would be questions about the fight. Gossip around the studio was lightning fast already and she didn’t want to contribute.

“Rose!”

No such luck, it seemed. She turned around with a brittle smile as two ladies who worked in marketing came over to her.

“Why didn’t you tell us that Matt from Geronimo is your cousin?”

Her jaw dropped. “What? Who told you that?”

“Well, he did.”

Fuming, Rose stomped down to the visual studio where Geronimo was filming some promotional footage. The three band members were dressed up like footie players and catching balls that the crew members were kicking at them from off-camera. She didn’t even wait for a break in the action, she walked right through the crew and onto the set.

“Listen, you!” she said, fiercely. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but--”

“Look out!”

A crew member wasn’t paying attention and had kicked the next ball, not realizing that Rose was in the way. In the split-second of warning, she threw up her hands in front of her face and a loud _schwack_ echoed through the studio. The black and white ball bounced away and Rose opened her eyes. It had never touched her.

Out of nowhere, the Doctor had appeared, running toward Rose flat out. He’d reached out one long arm and let the ball hit his hand, just in time. He smiled at her, even as he shook out his fingers against the sting.

“Honestly, who walks into the middle of a footie match?” he teased her, then sent a smirk over his shoulder at Matt. “Hey, chinny, here’s a tip for you: if you ever have a lady of your own, always be around to protect her.”

He wrapped an arm around Rose to lead her out of the studio. Neither of them saw Matt begin to shake then run out in the opposite direction, his band mates following quickly after him.

“Thank you, Doctor,” she said, quietly, a bit embarrassed at the near-accident. “How’d you know I was going to be there?”

“Admin told me where to find you, they said you wanted to know where that guy was.” He glared at her. “What if I hadn’t gotten there in time? You could have been hurt! Jeopardy-friendly, you are!”

“Not like a footie ball to the head would do too much damage, I think they’re designed for that kind of thing…” She looked up at him, curious. “Have you been keeping tabs on me because you’re worried about Matt?”

He pulled on his ear, frowning. “I didn’t think he’d start trouble at work,” the Doctor muttered. “I have to get back to the band. Stay near the Paradox studio and don’t wander off!”

Rose found herself smiling. The Doctor had a habit of pulling on his ear when he was embarrassed. He sounded gruff, but he was actually a big squishy teddy bear when it came to her. She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. His expression softened then and he touched her cheek, running his thumb under her lower lip, before hurrying off.

She took a deep breath and turned around to go back the way they’d come. Despite the Doctor telling her not to wander off, she _had_ to set things straight with Matt so the Doctor wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore.

Geronimo’s guitarist, Clara, told Rose that Matt had gone up to the roof for inspiration and that he’d said he wanted to be left alone to compose. Rose didn’t care what he wanted, she was tired of being in the middle of a pissing contest, and she was damn well going to say so to Matt.

“Oi!” she said, bursting through the roof access door.

He was standing at the railing and his head shot up, looking over at her in surprise. Rose froze when she saw the tears streaking his face, seconds before he turned away, hurriedly wiping his eyes.

“You’ve caught me at a bad time,” he murmured.

She shifted her weight, not sure what to say now. Her compassion was quickly squashing her anger. How could she stay upset with him when he was crying?

He closed a small notebook around a pencil and shoved it into the pocket of his shorts. “Everytime I try to write, Susan comes to mind,” he said, looking out into the distance. “She was the one who wanted me to be a singer. She said she’d always be my biggest fan, even when I got famous.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I promised myself that when we got signed… I’d finally tell her what she meant to me. I didn’t care if she hated me for it. I wanted her to see me as a man.” He wiped his face again, unable to stop the tears from falling. “The day I came home with my contract… there were police at the house.” His breath hitched. “They said she’d been hit by a lorry driver who was talking on his mobile. She was already gone by the time he’d gotten out to see if she was hurt.”

Rose moved to his side, but he just kept staring out at the horizon, his expression bleak.

“I’d wanted to see the look on her face when I told her the good news,” he said, his voice a bare whisper. “I pictured her smile all day.” A sob escaped him as he bowed his head. “I never wanted to sing a song as sad as this!” Finally, he looked at Rose, his tears falling unchecked. “What am I supposed to do?” he asked her, despairingly. “Where are these feelings supposed to go?” Falling to his knees, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face against her stomach. “How am I supposed to live without you, Susan?”

As he cried the name of his lost love, Rose felt her own tears welling up in her eyes. She knew there was something wrong with Matt because of the way he was misguidedly transferring his emotions to her, but Rose couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. He loved Susan dearly. Rose had no idea what might happen to her, how she might act, if she ever lost the Doctor in such a way. To lose her whole world.

One of Rose’s tears struck Matt’s cheek and he looked up, blinking bright, bloodshot eyes. He got to his feet and tenderly stroked her face.

“Susan,” he murmured as he leaned down to kiss her.

She shoved him away at once. “No!” she said, sharply. She couldn’t believe he would try something _again!_ She took a deep breath, regaining her resolve for why she’d come up to find him in the first place. “I can understand how you feel, Matt, but I can’t replace Susan. I’m _not_ her and I don’t feel anything for you. I’m sorry.”

Rose turned and left the rooftop without looking back. Matt covered his face with his hands and fell down in a crouch.

“Susan,” he whispered, brokenly. “I miss you so much…”

* * *

“Rose, what do you think about going home tonight,” the Doctor said as he drove them away from Kasterborous after the band called it quits for the day.

It took her a moment for her to realize he meant home, as in her mother’s flat. “Oh, uh…” She reached up to twirl her earring, caught off-guard. “Do you have work to do or something?”

“Well, not really,” he said, his eyes on the road. “But you’ve been staying with me for a while now. I know she thinks the company set you up with your own place, but… maybe she’d want a visit?” He sounded so carefully neutral.

She bit her lip. “Maybe you’re right. Okay.” She didn’t like being away from the Doctor, but she supposed he had a point.

When they reached the Powell Estate, he got out and opened the car door for her, extending his hand to help her out. She knew he was doing the gentleman act on purpose, to make her smile.

“Thanks for the ride, I guess,” she said and he nodded with a little half-smile. She shifted her weight, looking at the pavement, as she tried to think of something else to say. She wasn’t ready for him to leave, and wondered if she ever would be. Reaching out, she clasped the front of his t-shirt with one hand. “Listen…” she said, hesitantly, unsure if she should really say what was in her heart. “Don’t go and die on me, okay?”

His eyes widened as the smile slipped from his face. “What?”

She let go of his shirt and waved a hand as though to brush away her words. “Nothing,” she said, flustered, her face turning red. “Um, good night.”

He stared after her, perplexed, as she ran to the door that led to the flight of stairs inside the bank of flats.

Rose used her neglected key to get into her mum’s flat, calling, “It’s me!”

Jackie was sitting in the living room with a cup of tea and smiled as Rose walked into the room. She was wearing a comfy pink track suit, looking the same as always, just as if Rose had never been away. “Well, hello, stranger!” she said. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Rose smiled as she sat down next to her mother, though it was a tiny bit strained. “Just thought I might pop in for a visit, I know I haven’t been by recently.”

“Music business keeping you busy?” Jackie asked.

Rose brightened minutely. “Yeah, have you listened to any of my songs?”

Jackie chuckled. “Well, I certainly tried to, sweetheart, but I couldn’t handle the thought of my baby girl writing such filthy words! Made me think ‘what did I do, to raise her into being a smut peddler?’”

While Jackie’s giggle turned into a full laugh, Rose was taken aback. She guessed it would be a bit weird for her mother to listen to Paradox, the songs were so adult in nature. Rose just hadn’t been prepared to hear that Jackie didn’t care for them, even though it made sense. No parent really wanted to think about their kid having sex, and vice versa, let alone writing songs about it.

Still, she couldn’t find it in herself to laugh about it. She wondered why she felt so fragile tonight. Had Matt gotten to her with his emotional story, or was it that she just didn’t like being separated from the Doctor? She thought about leaving her mum’s and going over to his place, but what if he wanted some time to himself?

She was startled out of her thoughts by a knock at the door. Jackie shifted to get up, but Rose beat her to it, needing to move, feeling itchy in her own skin. She moved down the hallway to open the door and gaped at who was on the other side.

“Doctor?” The sight of him standing at her mum’s front door was just ridiculous to her. He didn’t fit at all, seeming larger than life in his expensive, designer jeans, white Beatles t-shirt, and navy suit jacket with little grey pinstripes.

“This is stupid, Rose,” he said on a sigh.

“What is?” she asked, utterly confused.

“There’s no point in pretending.” He moved around her, entering the flat.

“Pretending what?”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her further inside with him. “Let’s just do this.”

“Do what? _Doctor!”_

Jackie stood up in surprise as the Doctor came into the living room with Rose at his side. “And who’s this?” she asked, looking between them with her brows drawn down.

“My name is John Noble, ma’am,” he said, standing straight and tall, looking Jackie right in the eye. “I’ve come about your daughter.”

Jackie lifted an eyebrow. “What about her?” she asked, suspiciously.

“I’m called the Doctor,” he said. “I sing in a band called Paradox. Rose and I have been seeing each other for a while now.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, but he didn’t hesitate. “She is very special to me. And I know you’re not going to want to let your little girl go, but…” He let go of Rose’s hand to wrap his arm around her waist. “Rose’s life is with me now.”

Jackie blinked, stunned. “Now, wait just a minute, you can’t just waltz in here like--”

“I give you my word, I’ll support her financially,” he continued, not letting Jackie interrupt. “And I’ll do anything in the world to make her happy.” He reached into his jacket pocket with his free hand and withdrew his business card, which he handed to Jackie. “Here. My mobile number and I’ve written our address on the back. That’s where you’ll find her.” He looked down at Rose and smiled. “With me.”

He tilted his head toward the door, a question in his eyes. With a brilliant smile, she nodded and they turned to go.

“Rose, wait!” said Jackie.

They looked back. Rose’s mum looked uncertain, standing there with the card in one hand, her other outstretched as though to keep Rose from leaving.

“I know you’ve got your own life now,” Jackie said. “But going off with some fancy bloke, doing all this without telling me-- You can’t just spring this on your mother and expect me to be okay with it!”

“Everyone leaves home eventually, mum,” Rose said. “And I did a while back. This is just… me doing it, officially. I’m sorry if you’re unhappy with my decision, but that’s what it is - _my_ decision. And I choose the Doctor. My home is with him.”

The Doctor smirked. “You _could_ say no… but we wouldn’t listen.”

Rose elbowed him in the side and rolled her eyes, then grabbed his hand and ran with him outside to the Tardis waiting in the alley. He backed her against the passenger side door and snogged her thoroughly, grinning like an idiot as he handed her into the car.

When he opened the door of his flat, letting her precede him inside, it was like seeing it for the first time all over again for Rose. Because it was _theirs_. The tables, the chairs, the lamps, the dishes, the bathtub, the kitchen sink… everything. Where they worked could still be The Flat, but this… She instantly christened it _Our Flat._

“From now on, this is where you go when you go home,” he said, standing near the door with his hands in his pockets. “If there’s anything I can do to make it more comfortable for you, tell me. I’ll do it.” She turned to face him and he gave her a devastating smile, his eyes full of warmth. “Our life together starts now.”

She ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. _He wants to spend his life with me,_ she thought, giddily, feeling like her heart would burst.

Bending slightly, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom where they wasted no time in getting undressed. He entered her swiftly, as though he couldn’t wait, when he normally revelled in the foreplay. It felt… urgent. Important. Like their first time.

He grunted as he thrust hard, withdrew slowly and deliberately, then came back hard again, as if he was trying to get as deep as possible within her, making her cry out each time. Sweat gathering on his brow, he bit out, “This is where you belong.”

“Yes!” she moaned as he sucked her neck below her ear.

_“This_ is your home, Rose,” he said, bucking sharply against her, his words coming in breathless bursts. “Here, next to my skin. And _this_ is my home. Deep inside you. God, Rose, I love you!”

“Love you, John, my Doctor!” she called out, gripping the mattress and arching up into him. He devoured her cries, kissing her deeply, his tongue stroking every part of her mouth that brought her pleasure.

_This is it,_ she thought, dazedly, as her orgasm began to rise, a slow, burning heat that flickered through her, gathering momentum to be a towering inferno, rather than a streaking star. _Our life together starts now._


	12. Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt takes drastic action in order to win Rose and the Doctor is forced to play by the other man's rules to get her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter is NSFW!
> 
> Explicit warning for non-con.

Matt was both elated and dismayed at Geronimo’s next telly recording. Dismayed because Paradox was also slated to appear, elated because it meant Rose would be there, too. Matt kept his distance but watched intently as she interacted with the Doctor, her eyes constantly on him, her smiles brilliant. It grated on his every nerve to see her with him. At Matt’s side, Danny elbowed him.

“Dude, that’s her? The Doctor’s girl?” he asked, indicating Rose surreptitiously by briefly pointing. “Pretty average, if you ask me. Why would you want to take him on over her?”

“For my cousin,” Matt said, quietly, then waved Danny off. “You wouldn’t understand.”

He walked out of the studio, ignoring his bassist when he called after him, “No disrespect, mate, but your cousin’s dead! Matt? Matt!”

Matt kept going, shuffling down the corridor despondently. He had no idea what to do. He desperately wanted Rose, felt like he couldn’t go on without her in his life, but he couldn’t even go near her because of the Doctor. Rose would have to choose to come to him, if he was going to have a chance at all.

He stepped around a teamster that was talking to Derren Brown, the famous hypnotist, who was filming in the next studio over. “That was amazing!” the young intern enthused. “You really made him go back in time, in his own mind!”

“That’s the power of hypnosis,” Derren said with a smile. “It’s a great tool, not only for tricks and games. It can also heal emotional wounds as well. The next episode will feature more complex--”

“Excuse me,” said Matt, hurrying over, his eyes bright with inspiration. “Did you say you could heal emotional wounds?”

“Possibly,” Derren said, looking mildly put on the spot. “It depends. Are you in need of some help?”

“No. It’s… my cousin.”

* * *

Rose frowned down at the load of soft drinks she carried in her arms. She’d gone to the vending machine to get a soda, then ended up buying one for each member of the band, but she wondered if she should have gotten one for Van Statten as well. The manager was still pretty blunt with her, but he’d stopped being deliberately demeaning for the most part.

“Rose!”

She turned as someone called her name. Her eyes widened when she saw Matt coming toward her and… was that _Derren Brown_ with him? What were _they_ doing together? Before she could say anything, Derren’s hand came up over her eyes.

At his command of “Sleep,” everything went black and the soda cans clattered to the floor.

* * *

The Doctor stalked down the hallway, poking his head into doorways, scowling. Just how far did Rose have to go to get a soda? Another planet? He sighed as he saw her standing at the end of a corridor, her back facing him.

“There you are,” he said, jogging over and putting a hand on her shoulder to turn her around. “I’ve been looking all over for--” His words caught as she turned fully and looked up at him. Her eyes were utterly blank, not a flicker of recognition at all. His brow furrowed in confusion. “Rose?” he asked, uncertainly.

Behind him, a door closed. “Susan! I’m ready to go home now!”

Rose’s eyes lit up and she trotted around the Doctor… right into Matt’s waiting arms. “Finally,” she said with a smile. She looked over her shoulder at the dumbfounded Doctor. “Matt, who’s that?” she asked.

Matt looked up and smirked. “No one, sweetheart. No one.”

The Doctor looked between them, not wanting to believe what he was seeing. “Rose, what are you doing?” he demanded. “Get away from him!” He reached out for her and she flinched. His brows drew down and he grabbed her by the wrist.

“No!” she squeaked as he pulled her toward him.

He looked into her dull amber eyes, searching them deeply for any sign that she was putting on an act. Everything in her expression said she was confused and even afraid. “You really… don’t know who I am?” he exclaimed.

She snatched her hand back and whirled around, wrapping her arms around Matt’s waist and hiding her face against his shirt. She wasn’t even behaving like herself! Rose would have stomped on a bloke’s foot or slapped him across the face for grabbing her if she didn’t want to be grabbed. She would have, at least, _struggled!_ What the hell was going on?

“Please don’t tease Susan, Doctor,” Matt said with a smooth smile. “I think you’re scaring her.”

The Doctor’s hands were shaking as he balled them into fists. “What have you done to Rose?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“Rose?” Matt repeated as though he’d never heard the name before. “This is my cousin, Susan. I’m afraid you must be confused.” He held Rose tighter and smiled. “I knew Susan couldn’t be dead like they said. She would never leave me.”

“I’ve heard enough of your bullshit, chinny,” the Doctor said. He came forward and grabbed Matt by his jacket. Matt let go of Rose as the Doctor swung him around, slamming him against the wall. “What have you done?” he shouted. “You tell me what you did to her, or so help me, I’ll--!”

He felt a tug on the back of his shirt. “Please… Stop…”

He looked over his shoulder at Rose, who looked terrified and fragile. “Please, you’re hurting him! Please, stop. That’s my cousin.”

In shock, the Doctor numbly let go of Matt and backed away. Rose was instantly back in Matt’s arms, clutching him tightly in relief. Matt stroked her hair, softly telling her it was okay, that he was alright.

With a final smirk at the Doctor over Rose’s head, Matt said, “Come on. Let’s go home.”

The Doctor couldn’t do anything but stand and watch them leave together.

* * *

“She did WHAT?” Donna shrieked.

“That _bastard!”_ Jack spat.

The Doctor paced the length of the practice room. He’d brought rehearsal to a standstill when he told the band what had happened with Rose. “It’s got to be some kind of hypnosis,” he said, dragging his hands through his hair. “Derren Brown was shooting next door at the television studio today. It’s too much of a coincidence for it not to make sense.”

“So, what now?” asked Mickey.

The Doctor sighed as he paused, resting his hands on his slim hips. “I’ve already tried to get in contact with Derren Brown. The problem is, his people are claiming confidentiality in regard to his hypnotist secrets, and they’d only put me in contact with Derren directly if I was a family member. Matt convinced him that he really was her cousin because he told Derren all this information about her, plus he had a picture of Susan and Rose looks like her.”

“Why don’t we call Ms. Tyler, then?” suggested Rory. The Doctor grimaced and Rory rolled his eyes. “You don’t want to let her know you fucked up, huh?”

“Yeah, no,” said the Doctor. “Jackie Tyler isn’t fond of me already. I think I might end up castrated.” He started pacing again. “And Derren’s the only one who knows how to bring her out of it.”

“So… what?” said Donna. “Rose is just gonna go on thinking that she’s this creepy bloke’s cousin?”

“That is beyond fucked up,” said Jack.

The Doctor stopped at the window, not even seeing the view. All he could picture were Rose’s blank eyes, looking right through him. As if she didn’t know him. As if he meant nothing to her.

He took in a deep breath through his nose, straightening his shoulders in resolve. “Alright,” he said, turning back to the band. “We’ll play it his way.”

* * *

“Sweet dreams, Susan,” Matt said tenderly as he sat on the edge of her bed. She looked adorable in a set of light pink plaid pajamas. “How about a goodnight kiss?”

With a gentle smile, she reached up and cupped his face, bringing it down to hers in a soft, chaste kiss that lingered perhaps a moment too long. “Goodnight,” she said, running her fingers lightly through his floppy fringe before letting him go. She rolled onto her side, curling her hands near her face.

Matt turned out her light and left the room. He leaned against the door for a moment, fighting the mad urge to laugh. He’d won!

* * *

_Tap, tap, tap._

Rose’s eyes fluttered open.

_Tap, tap, tap._

She sat up and looked at the drawn curtains over her window. Was a tree branch hitting it? The tapping came again as she got out of bed and put on her slippers. It sounded too deliberate to be a branch in the wind… She pulled back the curtain and gasped. Sitting in the tree outside her window was the man Matt had called the Doctor! He held a finger to his lips to signal for quiet and winked at her.

She opened the window, looking him over, taking in his slim black jeans, black henley, and black trainers. “You’re the bloke who tried to beat up my cousin,” she said.

His brows drew together. “You make me sound like an arse.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked. “I’m here for you!”

“What?” she exclaimed, her cheeks heating up.

He held out one hand, wiggling the fingers enticingly. “Come on,” he said with a melting smile. “Be my Juliet.”

A tiny answering smile quirked the corner of her mouth. “You be the prince and I’ll be the princess?” she asked.

He groaned. “Yeah, it’s a love story, and if you tell _anyone_ I’ve listened to Taylor Swift, I’ll deny everything!”

She giggled, but sobered a moment later. “I don’t even know you,” she said. Instinct was telling her she could trust this man, but her common sense said that she’d only just met him and in a violent situation on top of that. Going anywhere with him sounded like a bad idea. Or rather… it _should_. Actually, it sounded pretty exciting.

He tilted his head to the side. “Are you sure about that?”

She frowned as her mind suddenly felt fuzzy. If she tried to think too hard about the man in front of her, it was like her head suddenly lost equilibrium. “I… don’t know. I’m trying to think, but…” She shook her head. “Something keeps getting in the way.”

He leaned over, placing his hands on her windowsill, and slanted his mouth over hers. Her eyes widened in shock, but an electric zing pulsed between them before she could pull away. The connection was instantaneous. Matt’s kiss had felt warm and nice, but… that was it. This kiss made heat begin to suffuse her entire body. She knew she was blushing when he pulled back enough to see her face. He smiled softly and stroked her cheek.

“It’s okay that you don’t remember,” he said, bringing his hand back to the sill to keep himself steady. “We get to fall in love all over again.”

He closed the distance and kissed her once more. She melted into it, her eyes fluttering shut. When he changed the angle and ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, she opened for him shyly, letting him in bit by bit as he slowly caressed her mouth in secret places she didn’t even know could make her feel good. When he pulled back, grabbing a branch hanging above them, she felt dazed. Probably looked it, too.

He held out his hand again. “Come with me,” he said, his deep eyes full of such heat, making her feel so sexy, so wanted, even in her girly oversized pajamas.

Biting her lip, she hesitantly took his hand. With a grin, he helped her climb out the window and lifted her into his arms.

“Hold on tight to me,” he said, putting her hands around his neck.

She squealed as he jumped from the branch, a moment of heart-stopping gravity, then landed lightly on his feet, as agile as a jungle cat. Her heart was thudding in her throat, though she wasn’t entirely sure it was all due to the fall.

He drove them across town to some upscale flats. Both the car and the flat seemed as oddly familiar as he did, but she still couldn’t put her finger on how or why. She looked around the front room at the furniture, the piano, and knick knacks, while the Doctor placed his keys on an end table next to the sofa.

“This is where we live,” he said, then added in a softer voice, “This is where we first made love.”

She froze, blushing again. His arms came around her from behind and he ducked his head to whisper right in her ear, the sensation of his hot breath sending shivers down her spine.

“You may not remember me, but I know you,” he said. One hand drifted down the row of buttons on her pajama top, unfastening the first two with deft movements. “I know how you like to be touched.”

He nuzzled the collar away from her neck and kissed the juncture of her shoulder. “Here,” he murmured against her skin, sliding up to the spot below her ear and laving it with his tongue, then scraping his teeth lightly across it. Her whole body trembled and she closed her eyes as her cheeks flamed.

“Then here.” His hand slid inside her top and a single finger circled her aereola. Both of her nipples hardened into tight points that ached.

His other hand moved down and gently cupped her mound through her pajama trousers. “Then softly here.” He ran two fingers along either side of her nether lips up to the top, then pushed the fabric into the crevice to find her clit unerringly.

Her mouth fell open on a moan. She wondered if he could feel how wet she was already through the flannel. She jerked in his embrace as his fingers traced small circles around the little nub, arousal spiking through her like lightning.

“That’s it, love,” he said, turning her around in his arms. At once, her body cried out its disappointment that he was no longer stroking her. He pressed kisses along her collarbone, moving lower, unfastening more buttons as he went. “I may have been erased from your mind,” he said, nuzzling her breast, rubbing his lips against one nipple as he spoke. “But I’d be willing to bet that your body remembers me.”

She keened loudly as he took the taut bud in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it then pulling with his teeth. He hissed in a breath and the rush of cold air against the warm nipple made her gasp. The ache she’d felt in her breasts when he’d first touched them lessened, but resettled between her legs, her core clenching around nothing on another surge of wetness. Bloody hell, but he knew _just_ what made her hot!

He lifted his head and straightened, looking down at her very seriously. “Say the word and I’ll stop,” he said, touching her only at the shoulders, wanting her to make a clear choice without him stimulating her body. “Tell me no and I’ll drive you back to that house right now.”

She hesitated, but said, “No, I… I don’t want you to stop.”

He scooped her up into his arms and brought her into the next room - the bedroom. He kissed her again as he laid her down, following her, blanketing her with his body, never breaking the kiss. In her mind, she thought, _Please don’t ever stop._

As he kissed his way down to the previously neglected nipple, he threaded their hands together. “I love you, Rose,” he murmured before taking her into his mouth.

“Oh,” she moaned. “J-Jo--”

His head shot up. Did she--?

BZZZZZZZZZ.

The door buzzer. With an irritated growl, the Doctor got to his feet and stomped out to the living room, having little doubt as to who was interrupting them. He picked up the phone connected to the intercom.

“Yes?” He smirked. “Oh, it’s you. Yeah, she’s here. Come on up.”

He buzzed him through. The Doctor leaned against the wall, making no effort to straighten his rumpled clothes. It wasn’t even a minute before Matt burst through the door.

“Susan!” He glared at the Doctor. “Where is she?”

Before he could answer, shuffling footsteps came up behind them. “Matt?” Her hair looked beautifully disheveled and her pajama top was misbuttoned. A blush still lingered on her cheeks.

Matt rushed around the Doctor and held her by her arms. “What did he do to you?”

The Doctor chuckled and Matt sent a furious look over his shoulder. “What did _I_ do to _her?_ You’ll forgive me if I find the question a bit ironic,” the Doctor said. “Tell me, chinny, do you always have to resort to hypnosis to get a date?”

“Shut it, arsehole, you don’t know what you’re talking about!” Matt snapped. “You don’t know what it’s like - to love someone when it’s not allowed! To lose her before you ever had a chance!”

The Doctor shrugged. “You’re right. I’ve never had the hots for Donna, so I can’t say that I get it. But here’s the thing…” He shoved away from the wall and leaned directly into Matt’s face, eyes burning with dark fire. “I don’t give a _fuck_ how you feel!”

Matt jerked back from the Doctor’s ferocity, blinking rapidly, obviously intimidated but trying not to show it. The Doctor took a deep breath, regaining some of his calm.

“If she wants to go with you, I won’t stand in her way,” he said. “But only if that’s what _she_ wants.”

Matt groped for Rose’s hand, not taking his eyes off the Doctor, as if he feared the other man might try something if he looked away. “Come on, Susan, let’s go home.”

Rose took a step back. “No, I…” Her brow furrowed, but she went on. “I’m sorry. I’m staying here. I feel like… this is where I belong.”

Matt turned to look at her then, in disbelief. He reached for her, opening his mouth to say something, but when she held her hands out of his range, his jaw tightened. Clenching his fists, he stalked out of the flat, shouting “Fine!”

“I’m sorry, Matt!” she called, but the door slammed. When she made a move to go after him, the Doctor wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair.

“Let him go,” he pleaded. “We have to get to know each other all over again.” Her heart pounded as he whispered in her ear, “I’ll make you remember me.”

He tugged her back toward the bedroom. While she lingered near the door, he pulled the henley over his head. Wide-eyed, she stared at his bare chest with lightly sprinkled hair across his pectorals, her face getting redder by the second. He chuckled, tossing the shirt toward the hamper.

“Haven’t seen that reaction in a while,” he said, coming back toward her. “Half-aroused, half-scared… like when you were a virgin.” He cupped her cheek, tracing the apple with his thumb, smiling tenderly. “Don’t worry. I can wait.”

It was with a mixture of relief and disappointment that he left her to put on his pajama trousers in the loo. He didn’t pressure her to resume their activities prior to Matt showing up, he just held her in his arms once they got into bed.

Rose closed her eyes. His warmth, his scent, the feel of his skin… It was all so familiar. She dearly wanted to remember him. She clutched at him, burrowing further into his embrace, hoping that _something_ would spark in her fuzzy memory.

He nuzzled the top of her head with his nose. “Are you cold?”

“No,” she whispered. “I’m scared.”

He tucked her closer to him, bringing both of his arms around her and fitting her head into the place that seemed made for her, right under his chin. She breathed deeply, filling her lungs with his unique smell - citrus soap underlying some kind of musky body spray. Maybe a hint of hair product. On him, it was so sexy and completely alluring.

_Doctor…_

* * *

When Rose awakened the next day, the Doctor was gone, but there was a long, slim box at the end of the bed. A yellow post-it rested on top.

_We’re doing a show at The Forum. A car will pick you up at 7. Wear this dress. --D_

Rose opened the box and gaped at what was inside. She held the dress to her chest and could already tell that the slithery material would cling to her like a second skin. It was a slinky black number with only one thin shoulder strap and a slit cut high on the opposite side, well above the knee. She felt like she’d seen it somewhere, but again, couldn’t think where.

_Clothes that are easy to take off… Hair that begs to be touched…_ The words drifted through her mind out of nowhere. When had she heard them before? She shook her head to rid herself of the fuzzy feeling in her mind. Details were so hard to grasp.

She looked at the dress again. He wanted her to wear _this_ to a concert? She’d stick out like a sore thumb!

* * *

When she reached the venue, she saw that she’d been wrong about standing out. There were fans dressed in all manner of clothing, from formal attire like she wore to casual wear, but also there were people in fancy dress. Some even wore their own versions of the band’s clothes, like the Doctor’s brown pinstriped jacket he was currently wearing, his dark blue Oxford half unbuttoned. The line of his neck and that tantalizing slash of bare chest made her heart thud.

“Are you wet yet, ladies?” he said into the microphone with a grin. “This next song will make you squirm - _Timeless Satisfaction!”_

Rose found herself leaning forward in anticipation, scooting all the way to the edge of her front-row seat.

“Lift up your skirt, you can’t hide from me,” the Doctor sang. “My tongue traces your lines, forming circles that spell out eternity. Reach down and finger your honey-paste smile, I know you don’t want to wait, baby, it’s been a while. I hear you gasping, calling my name. Your fingers grasping, rip open my shirt, say you’re going insane. I want you to lose it, lose all control to your passion, but I won’t let you fall, no, we’ll endlessly writhe in timeless satisfaction!”

_Oh, God,_ Rose thought as she shivered, her nipples tightening to hard points beneath the silk dress. Everything about him was so hot. His movements, his voice, hell, even just his fingers as he reached out to the audience… it was all so erotic. _This must be what it’s like to be seduced._

As the song came to its conclusion, there was suddenly a complete blackout of all the stage and ambient lighting. Rose gasped as a pair of familiar arms grabbed her right out of her seat.

“Thanks for coming,” the Doctor murmured in her ear. “The dress looks great on you.”

Again, Rose was struck by a sudden sense of deja vu. Being pulled out of the audience during a blackout, being carried off-stage by the Doctor… He set her down when the lights came back up. They were backstage, all kinds of people swarming around them. He paid them no mind and backed her against the nearest wall, tilting up her chin to take her mouth in a sweeping kiss.

He reached down and felt for the slit in her dress, his warm hand gliding up the line of her leg. She twitched as he kept going and cupped her arse, fitting her against his hips. A muffled noise of surprise escaped her as she felt his growing erection through his trousers.

_How does he know?_ she thought, dazedly. _How I want him to touch me, where to kiss me, how hard to push? He knows exactly how to make me his own. I… I know I’ve felt this before._

* * *

“Where’s Rose?” the Doctor asked Van Statten after the encore. “Did she leave?”

The manager pointed out toward the back, where big trucks parked in the loading area to handle their musical equipment. “She said she wanted some air. I think she went that way. Do you want me to find her?”

The Doctor knew the other band members were headed out to their limousine. “No, I’ll do it,” he said, walking out toward the loading area. He called over his shoulder, “Tell the guys not to wait and then call me a car.”

“Fine, but try not to get spotted, or you’ll be mobbed.”

* * *

Rose slowly paced the concrete under the circle of illumination from a streetlamp. At the loading bay, roadies carried equipment and instruments and loaded them into the various trucks that were waiting. She’d moved across the alley as much as she could and down a bit so she wouldn’t be a hinderance to the trucks leaving or coming in.

Tugging her overcoat closer around her, she thought hard about everything she’d learned and felt since the Doctor had played Romeo at the window. How could she have forgotten about him? Everything about him seemed known to her somehow, but it was like the knowledge was right at the edge of her vision. Something in the corner of her eye, and if she tried to look directly at it, it vanished.

Images and sounds, words and places, all swirled around the periphery of her mind… _His voice… his touch… carrying her onstage from the audience… the dress… a banquet… the taste of caviar… a music video with the models’ faces hidden… nearly naked in front of a camera… reenacting the video on telly to provoke someone…_

She gasped. She’d remembered something!

“Rose!”

Her heart leapt as she turned and saw the Doctor standing on the other side of the alley, near the loading area. A brilliant smile spread across her lips, lighting up her whole face, as she started running back to him.

“Doctor! I remembered--”

_HONK! HONK!_

Rose’s head jerked toward the opening of the alley and bright headlights blinded her. Then there was a loud screeching and the acrid smell of burning rubber. This, too, she recognized. Running in front of a truck-- no, a car… a blue car-- and the Doctor, he was there, and time had seemed to stop for an eternity, just like now…

Something warm and solid barreled into her, knocking her out of the way of the oncoming truck. She winced as she landed on the hard pavement, pain bursting in her hip and shoulder. Sitting up, she turned to see what had happened.

Her heart stopped. A rushing sound filled her ears. The Doctor lay a few feet from her, his body sprawled from the impact of the truck, which hadn’t stopped in time. A pool of blood grew steadily near his head.

Suddenly, his face flashed through her mind, as her memory sparked one scene after another in vivid detail.

_You changed me…_

_Other than Rose, I have nothing else that is truly precious to me…_

_Our life together starts now._

She reached out with gentle hands, touching his hair. “Doctor?” she whispered, her voice trembling. Her fingers came away stained red. She began to shake all over. “No… No! Doctor!” She lifted eyes that were streaming with tears to the driver of the truck who’d climbed out. All around them, workers from the loading bay were gathering around. “Someone, please, call an ambulance!” she cried. “Hurry!”


	13. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose regained her memories, but the Doctor is fighting for his life as a result.

Rose didn’t know how long she sat in the waiting area outside surgery at the hospital. She just kept staring at her fingers, still flecked with the rusty red of the Doctor’s blood. Her whole body wouldn’t stop trembling. Her head shot up as the doors at the end of the hall burst open and the other members of the band ran towards her with Donna in the lead.

“What happened?” Donna asked, frantically. “Is he alright?”

“He’s in surgery,” Rose told them all. She wrapped her arms around herself, her overcoat doing nothing to ward off the bone-deep chill she felt. “There was so much blood… He didn’t hear me when I called his name. It’s--” Her breath caught. “It’s my fault.” Somehow, saying it out loud made it feel even worse and her shaking intensified. “If he dies, it’s all my fault. If I’d just _looked_ , he wouldn’t be here right now!” She hadn’t even realized that she’d raised her voice to near hysterical until Jack grabbed her by the shoulders and told her to calm down.

“He’s not going to die, Rose,” Jack said, firmly. “He said he wouldn’t leave you, didn’t he?”

Suddenly, all the tears that hadn’t come before came rushing up, blurring her vision. “Yes,” she choked out, collapsing into Jack’s arms. He held her tightly as she sobbed for the Doctor.

* * *

Inside the surgical theater, the surgeon didn’t bother looking up from his task as he asked, “Pressure?”

“Eighty over fifty and falling,” the nurse answered.

The surgeon shook his head, grimly. “C’mon,” he muttered to the young man on the table.

Outside the hospital, news crews mingled with the large number of fans that had gathered on the pavement. The story of the Doctor’s accident had spread fast and the television presenters were giving live coverage. The atmosphere was tense in light of the Doctor’s uncertain condition. Fans gathered together in groups to sit vigil until there was more news, drawing solidarity from each other, some of them forming prayer circles. Their fervent wishes were echoed by Rose and the band inside.

_Please, Doctor,_ Rose thought as hard as she could, hoping that somehow he would hear her. _Please, don’t die. I need you!_

* * *

The heart monitor blared a warning and the surgeon and nurses jumped into rapid action as the Doctor’s heart began to fail. “He’s in cardiac arrest!” the nurse watching his pressure announced.

“Begin CPR, stat! Get the defib ready!”

* * *

His vision faded from black to white and he blinked his eyes at the blinding brightness of it all. Disoriented, he looked around at the hazy atmosphere. There didn’t appear to be anything for miles. Just soft, empty whiteness. He didn’t recognize anything. _Where am I?_

He bounced a bit on the balls of his feet. _I feel… light._ He hadn’t felt this good in ages. He looked down at himself. He was wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt and his battered cream colored plimsolls. He couldn’t remember what he’d been doing prior to getting here.

_Am I dead?_

He sighed and nodded, accepting it. _I guess that’s alright. I should have died a long time ago. No one loves me. No one needs me._

He remembered his mother, her dark hair beginning to gray as she got drunk night after night. “Don’t look at me!” she’d shout. “Stop looking at me with those damn eyes!”

He felt like that little boy again, alone and confused. _Mummy hates me. I made daddy go away. But I didn’t mean to, mummy. I’ll be good. I promise._

He thought of the men she used to bring home after she thought he’d gone to sleep. “Don’t you have a kid?” one asked.

“He’s not mine,” his mother slurred. “He’s the son of a rapist. He ruined my life. His monster of a father pays me to keep him.”

_Mummy. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish I was dead. No one needs me. No one loves me. I just wish…_

A bright light suddenly shone on the horizon ahead of him and he held up a hand to shield his eyes briefly. When he looked again, a shape separated from the white. He walked towards it, letting his vision adjust enough to see what it was.

The figure of a woman in a long white dress became sharper with every step he took toward her. Her short hair in soft curls of dark brown, sprinkled with hints of silver. The sweet smile on her face made him question her identity, for she’d certainly never worn such an expression for him before.

_Mum?_

The woman nodded, her smile brightening and he couldn’t help but return it.

_I cost you your life. I would have gladly given mine for yours. The least I can do is join you now._

She held out her hand to him, patiently waiting. He reached for her… but paused as a soft sound reached his ears. A sound that tugged at his heart and held him in place.

_Is someone… crying?_ He looked back the way he’d come and saw a dark shape, partially hidden by the haze. Momentarily, the fog lifted and his eyes widened. _Rose?_ There were tears streaming down her beautiful face. She cried as if her heart was breaking. _What’s wrong? Why are you crying?_ She didn’t seem to hear him.

A bright light shone around Rose’s form and she began to fade into the white. _No!_ He started to run after her retreating figure. _Rose! Come back!_ He had to reach her, he promised he’d never leave her.

And then she was in his arms, the other half of his soul fitting in place. He cradled her head in one large hand, pressing his lips to her hair. _My precious girl… Don’t cry. I’m not going to leave you._ He looked down into her golden eyes and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, wiping away all traces of her tears. _I used to think love was a myth. Too fragile and fleeting to be real. I didn’t think I needed it. Until I met you._

Rose smiled, and it was like the sun blossoming in his heart.

Behind him, he heard his mother’s soft voice. _John…_

He didn’t turn to face her. If he did, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to look away again. _I can’t, mum. I’m sorry. I can’t stay with you now. I promised Rose and she needs me. She’s the one who taught me how to love._

* * *

_Beep._

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

“We’ve got a heart beat!”

“Pressure’s rising!”

“C’mon, show me a miracle…”

* * *

“How is he?” Rose asked immediately as the surgeon emerged into the waiting area.

The older man gave her a reassuring smile. “He’s stable. We almost lost him. But he’s a fighter.”

The band mates exclaimed in relief, a collective exhale that felt like it had been held for hours. Rose collapsed into Mickey, who was standing next to her. He held onto her as she buried her face against his shoulder. “Thank you,” she gasped. “Thank you, thank you!”

* * *

“...tor? Doctor?”

His eyelashes fluttered.

“Doctor? You awake?”

Rose. He struggled to open his eyes and took in a deep breath, wincing at the dull pain it caused. He managed to open them halfway and blearily saw that he was in a dim hospital room. A heart monitor was clipped to one index finger and a lead ran from his hand to a bag of clear fluids hanging beside the bed. But more importantly, an anxious young woman sat in a chair at his side, her face pale, her hand holding the one that wasn’t attached to any tubes.

He did his best to smile, though all of his muscles felt sluggish and heavy. “Hey, wolf girl,” he said, his voice soft and raspy. Reaching out, he touched her cheek, noting that her makeup was long gone. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“You saved me,” she said, her fingers grasping at the blanket near his thigh. “But you could have died, Doctor! Your heart stopped.” Her eyes, already bloodshot, filled with tears. “I thought I was gonna lose you.”

He chuckled lightly. “I said I wouldn’t leave you, remember?”

She held his hand to her face. “Promise?”

“Yeah.”

“You mean it?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You better.”

“I do.”

“Because if you die--”

“Oh, Rose.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. She rose out of her chair and he wrapped his arm around her, draping her across his chest. Beneath her ear, she could hear the steady thump of his heart. “Thank you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her crown.

_For what?_ she wondered. _I didn’t do anything. He saved_ me. _I haven’t done anything except be here. But I’m so happy he’s alive._

The door opened quietly, then was flung wide the rest of the way. “You’re up!” Donna exclaimed, running into the room. Rose straightened up from her awkward hug with the Doctor, only to have Donna pull her into a surprise embrace. “You idiot, John!” Donna said in a watery voice, squeezing Rose tighter. “I should pound you into next week for scaring me like this!”

“Donna, _I’m_ the one who’s not dead,” the Doctor pointed out.

“I’m huggin’ Rose so I don’t accidentally hurt you,” Donna said. Rose guessed that made a kind of sense.

“Sorry if I worried you guys,” said the Doctor to the rest of the band.

Jack smirked. “Rose and Donna were crying the whole time.”

“I was not!” Donna argued. “Shut up!”

The Doctor smiled. It was good to be back.

* * *

When the Doctor received his next dose of pain medicine, the band decided to call it a night. Rose intended to stay with the Doctor at the hospital, but she walked them out to the parking lot so she could say goodnight.

The Doctor closed his eyes and relaxed back on his pillows, the meds making him sleepy. He hoped he wouldn’t have to stay here too long, he already missed his own bed. This one had hardly any room for Rose…

He opened his eyes again when he heard the door. Rose couldn’t have gone all the way downstairs and back so soon… He startled to see Matt closing the door after him. There was a wild light in his green eyes, giving him a slightly feral look.

“So,” he said, moving closer to the bed. “You pulled through. If you hadn’t, she would have been mine.” Before the Doctor could respond or even think of pressing the nurse call button, Matt lunged for him, wrapping his hands around the Doctor’s throat. “Why didn’t you just fucking die?!”

The Doctor grasped at Matt’s hands and forearms, but the surgery and medicine had left him weak. He struggled to breathe as he shook from the effort of trying to hold the other man off. “K-kill me and Rose’ll go through the same thing you did,” he wheezed. “You want that?”

Matt’s eyes went wide and his grip faltered. “No,” he whispered. His hands slipped from the Doctor’s neck and he backed away. “No…” His knees buckled on the next step and he fell to the floor, his shoulders beginning to shake. “I don’t want that… I just want it to stop!” He looked up at the Doctor with an expression of horror. “Oh, God, what have I done?”

“You remember now?” the Doctor asked. “Rose is not your cousin. Your cousin died. And you couldn’t handle it. It broke you. You lost yourself. Remember?”

A tear fell from Matt’s eyes. “No,” he said again, but he sounded heartbroken rather than disbelieving. He bowed his head, digging his fingers into his thighs. “Susan… Why… Why did you have to leave?” he moaned, miserably.

* * *

Rose was startled to see Matt standing in the corridor near the Doctor’s door. He looked at her with eyes that were reddened, but clear. His shoulders slumped as he put his hands in his pockets, and he looked at the tile floor as he took a bracing breath before lifting his gaze to her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and she felt his sincerity deeply, the regret in his tone stemmed all the way down to his heart. “I know that doesn’t make up for or erase anything I’ve done, but I am. I’m so sorry, Rose. I was an idiot to think I could ever replace Susan, and it was unforgivable of me to try.” He shook his head. “I… I hope you never understand what I went through.”

With a nod, he quietly moved past her, giving her a wide berth. He kept his hands in his pockets, not making any attempt to reach for her. He was almost to the end of the hallway when she spoke.

“Matt.”

He paused and looked over his shoulder.

“Do me a favor,” she said. “Go to grief counseling. Please. Get better, for your sake and your mother’s. Then write a song where no one dies. Write a love song. And sing it until you believe in happy endings.” She gave him a smile. “Because I like your music, Matt. I really do.”

His eyes widened. In that moment, he’d seen Susan in Rose’s smile again, but a second later, his head cleared. Susan was gone. And he would learn to remember her without letting it crush him. He could let the memory of loving her lead him to better things, instead of living in regret. No more sad songs. Susan wouldn’t want that. She’d want him to be happy. And because of Rose… he had hope that one day, he would be.

“Thank you,” he said, returning Rose’s smile with a small one of his own. “Thank you, Rose. I’ll never forget you.”

* * *

“On behalf of the Doctor and the rest of Paradox, I’d like to thank you all for coming out.” The representative from Kasterborous smiled out at the large room filled with reporters, photographers, and film crews. “We are pleased to announce that the Doctor’s surgery was a success and he has been released from the ICU. Any questions?”

“What about the next concert schedule?” a reporter immediately asked.

“Shows will be postponed.”

“And the television appearances?”

“The rest of the band will keep the existing commitments, but the programs will show video footage rather than a live performance.”

“We hear he was protecting a woman,” another reporter said. “What’s the story there?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t answer that,” the representative said, just as Van Statten stepped in.

“Okay, that’s all the time we have,” the manager said. “Thank you!”

“But what about the woman’s injuries?” the reporter pressed.

“Is she his girlfriend?” asked another as the two men headed out of the room amid the pops and flashes of cameras.

“Is it true that she’s at least a decade younger than the Doctor?”

_Click._

The Doctor turned off the hospital television displaying the interview, frowning deeply. With an effort, he pushed himself out of bed and went to the window, bending down the horizontal blinds to peek out. There were still fans out there, though not as many as the first night. A few came by every so often, so there was always at least a small group of them. A camera crew was talking to a couple of girls near the entrance.

He let the blinds snap back into place and pounded his fist against the wall. “Shit,” he muttered.

The door to the room clattered open and Rose backed in, using her bottom to depress the handle because her hands were holding a massive bouquet of yellow tulips in a glass vase. “Doctor, look what just arrived! Aren’t they lovely?” she said with a smile.

As she went to the table near the wall that was already holding tons of flowers, the Doctor looked past her to the door she’d left open. A couple of nurses were looking at them and whispering to each other. He went to the door at once and closed it.

“Rose, don’t use the front door to the hospital anymore,” he said.

She looked up from trying to find a spot for the tulips and tilted her head at him. “Why?”

“Just don’t.” He didn’t want to worry her, but he was concerned about the fans. She’d been harassed before, just for being near him. This would be all the excuse they needed to hurt her again.

The door swung open again and the Doctor had to quickly shift to get out of its way. Van Statten stood there, his face grim. “We’ve got a problem,” he said, handing over a slim newspaper to the Doctor. “This is gonna be tomorrow’s issue of the Daily Mail.”

Rose and the Doctor looked down at the title: _The Truth About The Doctor’s Accident._ The article alleged that fans saw him protecting a woman; his _lover_ , the paper said. There weren’t any pictures of her, but some fans had seen her before. They would _know_. Rose stood frozen as Van Statten grumbled about consequences. The Doctor looked at her, touching her shoulder.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Oh… Yeah,” she said, giving a tremulous smile, doing her best to keep it together. She didn’t want to cause the Doctor any stress, he was supposed to be resting. “I’m fine. I knew this might happen sooner or later.” She shrugged. “What’s one more scandal, eh?” Worried that the Doctor was seeing right through the act, she went to the door. “Look, I’m gonna go grab a coffee. I’ll be right back.”

She left the room and went down to the vending machines, but ended up just staring at the various choices. What would happen now? If his fans found out that she caused the accident--

“Hey, kid.”

Rose jumped a mile, her pulse thundering in her throat as she turned to see Van Statten standing behind her.

“About the Mail thing tomorrow,” he said, crossing his arms. “You might want to stay away from the Doctor for a while.” He actually sounded as though he was making an effort not to be callous about it, but the statement still wrenched her heart. “And count your lucky stars that they’re not printing your picture. But if people see you together, they could figure things out, and that could be dangerous for you.”

“But I’m taking care of him,” she protested, not wanting to leave his side.

“The nurses are taking care of him,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he behaves.” The balding man gave her a little smile. “This is just til things cool off, Rose. Don’t make things even more difficult for him, alright?”

The manager turned and headed back toward the Doctor’s room. Rose sighed and bit her lip, trying not to feel disappointed and unwanted. She could do this. It was temporary. She’d do anything to help Paradox, to help the Doctor. Even if it meant staying away.

* * *

“You told Rose _what?”_ the Doctor shouted.

“Calm down,” Van Statten said, then jumped forward as the Doctor began to haul himself out of bed. “What are you doing? You just had a dose of painkillers, you can’t--!”

“Shut up!” the Doctor said, shoving the other man away. “We’ve been seen together. They know her face, they’ll blame her for what happened to me and then what?” He sagged against the end of the bed with a groan, clutching the wooden footboard tightly as a wave of dizziness threatened to bring him to his knees. He just didn’t have the strength to be angry. Ironically, that pissed him off even more.

Van Statten put an arm around him and helped the Doctor to sit back down. “I understand how you feel, Doctor, but we can’t let her stay here. You’re in no condition to protect her.”

Panting, the Doctor wiped the spit that had dripped onto his chin and lifted his head to look at his manager. “Schedule a press conference,” he said, roughly.

“Why?”

“Why do you think?” he snarked. “Just do it!”

* * *

The atmosphere around Kasterborous the next day was decidedly frosty. No one returned Rose’s wishes of “good morning,” instead most of the people she passed would start whispering to each other. She caught snippets of their furtive conversations, no surprise it was all about what had been in the Mail that morning. They all assumed the girl in the story to be Rose, since she and the Doctor were always together.

Everyone at the studio probably knew, what with their impressive grapevine. Even though she knew most of the people at Kasterborous, they were probably looking at her differently now for keeping the relationship a secret. Were they also judging her for being the cause of the Doctor’s accident? She thought so, from the way she was being avoided.

_I knew this would happen,_ she thought. _I shouldn’t have come in today._

She turned to leave, but once she was downstairs, she saw a film crew right outside the glass doors. They were stopping people as they were coming in. Following the Doctor’s advice, Rose left by the back door, but then was stumped as to where to go. Reporters were probably watching Their Flat, too.

Her feet took her to the hospital and she stood staring up at the tall building for a long time. It felt good to be near the Doctor again, even if she still had to keep her distance.

“Hey!”

Rose was suddenly blindsided by a slap across her face and she reeled back a few steps. She stared in astonishment at a girl a few years younger than herself who’d delivered the blow. The girl’s face was contorted with rage.

“It was you!” she shouted. _“You_ should’ve been hit by that truck!”

Her cries drew the attention of the other fans sitting vigil and one by one, they all stood and began to crowd around Rose.

_“You_ hurt the Doctor?”

“You’re the girl?”

“I’ll never forgive you, you bitch!”

“You should leave him alone!”

“You don’t deserve him!”

Rose pressed her lips together, really and truly sick of people telling her what to do in regard to the Doctor. “Don’t you get it?” she said, raising her voice to be heard about the growing din. “We’re in love!”

“Hey! Everybody!”

Before the crowd could retaliate against Rose’s passionate statement, another girl who sat off to the side with a tiny portable telly yelled and waved her arms to get everyone’s attention.

“The Doctor’s holding a press conference!”

Battle lines forgotten, Rose gathered around the small square screen with the rest of the girls, as anxious as anyone to hear what he had to say.

Outwardly, he betrayed no sign that he had been recently injured. He’d changed into his brown pinstriped jacket with a dark navy Oxford and left it open at the neck without a tie. He even looked… healthier, somehow. A second later, Rose realized he was wearing makeup for the cameras.

“First, I want to thank all of our fans for the cards and well-wishes and the flowers and all the packages of biscuits. I plan on eating all of them when I’m better,” the Doctor said with a cheeky grin. “I also want to say that I’m hoping for a speedy recovery so Paradox can perform well for you all.”

“Doctor, we’re all wondering about the girl involved in the accident,” said a reporter near the front. “Any truth to the rumors?”

The Doctor nodded. “They’re all true,” he said and a collective murmur rumbled through the press. “But I would like everyone to know,” he went on, “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” The reporters fell silent, except for the random pop of a camera. “I’m sure you all can understand wanting to protect someone you love.”

“Is this girl a celebrity?” another reporter asked.

“No. She’s just a girl,” said the Doctor. “A wonderful girl. But my celebrity status has been hard on her.” He closed his eyes briefly. “She’s been hurt.” When he looked up again, the tender emotion in his eyes confirmed his solemn promise, “I will do anything to keep her from being hurt again. I love her.” He leaned forward a bit, entreating the audience through the cameras. “She’s not responsible for my injury. So, I’m asking you all… Please. Leave my girl be. For me.” He bowed his head slightly. “Please.”

All around Rose, the girls who’d previously been threatening were all bursting into tears, moved by the Doctor’s plea. Tears welling her own eyes, Rose pressed her hands to her mouth as she turned and ran into the hospital. She knew how proud he was, how he hated to beg, and yet he’d done it for her. She needed to see him. Needed to tell him how much she loved him.

* * *

“Well done, Doctor,” said Van Statten in a low voice as the Doctor passed him on the way back to his hospital room. The manager knew how difficult it was for the singer to stay upright just then, but the Doctor was putting on a good show in order to take the heat off of Rose. His pride wouldn’t let him reveal to the fans how weak he really was.

When the door latched behind him, the Doctor swayed. His hand found the wall next to the door, but he still slid down to the floor. He panted for air and dragged a hand over his damp brow. He closed his eyes, willing the dizziness to fade. He was okay with staying on the floor, it felt cooler down there…

“Damn it,” he muttered. He suddenly realized that he might not be able to get back up, even if he wanted. His strength was sapped. He grimaced as he clutched his side, the discomfort growing by the second. He’d be in a lot of pain soon unless he could get a nurse to hook him up to the drip again. The bed just seemed so far away. The nurse call button even further.

The door opened. He looked up and Rose swam into view. Her eyes grew wide and alarmed when she saw him sitting there. He smiled, tiredly. “Hey, wolf girl,” he said, his voice weak and breathless. “Close the door, will you? It’s drafty.”

She did as he said and knelt at his side. “You should be in bed!”

“Heh. Yeah. I almost made it. You just caught me at a bad time.”

She frowned at him. “You shouldn’t be making jokes. You _really_ shouldn’t have pushed yourself to hold that conference! I could have handled things. Why did you have to go and do that?”

His brows drew down. “Rose, I can’t just sit around when you’re in danger. I won’t. It’s like I go a bit mad and there’s no power on this Earth that will stop me. You want someone who’ll just sit back and do nothing? Then find yourself another man.”

“Don’t say such mean things.”

He smirked, reaching out to run his thumb along her bottom lip. “I only do it to see you pout. Look at that lip. I just want to bite it.” Tugging her closer, because it hurt to lean in, he nibbled her pouting lip then pulled it into his mouth, sucking on it, before snogging her with the last ounce of strength he had left.

She sighed into the kiss, pulling back after a moment with a deep breath. She leaned her forehead against his. “Once you’re better, I’m so gonna get you for that.”

“Okay,” he said, his eyes still closed. “Let’s just stay like this forever.”


	14. Scare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose has a scare and doesn't know how to tell the Doctor. Paradox films a tantalizing new music video featuring a certain bodily fluid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW!

 

Amy arrived late to the Doctor’s “welcome back” party following his release from the hospital. Rose was surprised to see the reason for her tardiness clutched in her arms - a little baby, almost toddler-sized, with short ginger hair adorning its head!

“Sorry, sorry, I’m late,” Amy said, rushing over to give Rory a kiss. “The babysitter called in with the flu at the last minute and I couldn’t find anyone else, and then Melody started crying right when I was about to leave.”

Rose gaped as Rory took baby Melody into his arms and made a big, excited face for the toddler’s benefit. Amy and Rory had a _baby?_ Why hadn’t they mentioned her before?

“Right, sorry,” Amy said when Rose had a chance to ask her. “We don’t really talk about Melody outside the band, and then once you were one of us, I guess we just took for granted that everyone knew.”

“It’s fine, I was just surprised, you’re both so young to have a kid,” said Rose. Her curiosity roused, she peppered Amy with questions, wanting to know how old Melody was (just over a year), was she planned (a happy surprise), and how they made it work with the band’s responsibilities.

“Basically, it’s all about having a big list of trusted babysitters,” Amy said. “It can be tough sometimes, working around our schedules, but it’s absolutely worth it. We’re considering getting a full-time nanny once Melody is toilet trained.”

“It sounds so… overwhelming,” said Rose, thinking about everything Amy and Rory had to plan around; the gigs, the interviews, photoshoots, media events, etc. No wonder Amy had gone right home after helping Rose get fixed up for the formal event that one time. They probably couldn’t do anything spontaneously.

“It can be,” Amy said, nodding. “It definitely was at first. Ask Rory, he’ll tell you all about how I was those first few months. I was positive that I was the worst mum in the world and Melody was gonna grow up ‘wrong,’ oh, I was terrible.”

“Worth it, though?” asked Rose, repeating Amy’s earlier sentiment with a smile.

Amy returned the smile and clinked her glass of champagne to Rose’s. “Oh, yes.”

“So, what’s the best part about having a baby?” asked Rose.

Amy grinned. “Doing research, are you?” She laughed when Rose’s face turned red. “The best part is knowing we made this little person together. And having Rory come straight home after work isn’t bad, either.” Her hazel eyes softened as she looked over at her husband, who was handing Melody over to the Doctor. “He’s a busy man, but he loves his family.”

Rose had never really thought about kids, but then, she was just barely in her twenties. She wasn’t ready to be a mum. Even so… Her and the Doctor and a baby… a family. Her mind drifted through a few hazy images of Sunday picnics, the Doctor singing lullabies, Rose showing the baby telly interviews of the Doctor when he wasn’t home… She had to admit, it was a sweet dream.

“Wose!”

Rose blinked, coming back to herself to find that the Doctor had brought Melody over to say hi.

“Wose! Wose!” the baby said, happily clapping her little hands.

“No, no, Melody,” the Doctor said, gently. “Rrrrose.” He emphasized the ‘r’ sound, clenching his teeth and pushing his lips out in an exaggerated fashion to show what Melody should do. “Try it again. Rrrrrose.”

“Wwwwose.”

“Rrrrrose.”

“Rrrrrose!”

“That’s right!” He lifted her into the air, making her squeal with glee. She repeated her new word over and over, to get the Doctor to do it again. “Well done! Good girl!” he praised.

Rose saw the happy expression on the Doctor’s face and her breath caught. He was so good with Melody. A natural. As Rose took her turn holding the baby, she felt her heart squeeze, knowing that it could be like this one day, with their own child. And she thought she might like that.

* * *

Rose sighed as she stepped over the threshold of the Doctor’s flat. He followed behind and closed the door after them. “Home at last,” she said. “It’s been a while since we’ve come home together.”

She gasped as he grabbed her by the crook of her arm and pulled her back, pressing her up against the wall. His mouth was instantly at her throat, hot and wet, and her body responded in kind. It was as devastating to her senses as it was exquisite, since it had been weeks since she’d felt his intimate touch. She braced her feet so her legs wouldn’t give out.

“Here?” she asked, breathlessly.

“Been too long,” he muttered, his voice half-muffled against her skin. He rutted against her hip and she was shocked to find he was already hard. “Do you want me to stop?”

“God, no, don’t ever stop,” she said, clutching his shoulders.

She groped for his shirt buttons as he kissed her deeply, plunging his tongue into her mouth, stroking along hers, then withdrawing, taking each of her lips between his, sucking and nibbling, before delving back inside. It was difficult to remember what she was doing while he kissed her like that, like he was starving for her, and his hands roamed her body, sneaking up her dress to grab her arse, but she managed to finally get his shirt undone. Impatiently, she shoved it off his shoulders.

Rose gasped when she saw the long scar across his abdomen, her ardor instantly cooled. “Doctor,” she breathed. Hesitantly, she touched his chest, her thumb brushing along the red line. “This is all my fault…”

“Rose, I earned this,” he said, bringing her other hand up to his chest. “Think of it as a tattoo. A badge of honor.”

“But it won’t go away,” she said. “You’ll always have it--”

“I like it,” he insisted, cupping her face in both hands. “It’s proof that I belong to you.”

Her eyes darkened and she leaned forward. The Doctor sucked in a breath as Rose licked along the line of his scar. “Let me feel it,” she said, continuing down, licking and biting at his skin, until she knelt at his feet. “I want to know your pain.” She pressed kisses to his abdomen as she unfastened his trousers. “I want to share everything. I want everyone to know I’m marked by you.” She pulled down his pants with his trousers and looked up at him with hooded eyes as he toed out of them along with his trainers. “Tonight, fuck me so hard, you leave me scarred.”

His cock, so near to her face, bobbed in anticipation. He couldn’t wait any longer. Reaching down, he pulled her up and grabbed her dress, whipping it over her head in one smooth motion. The bedroom was too far, so he picked her up and deposited her on the sofa a few feet away, turning her to face the wall. He eyed the long, pale line of her back, the curve of her arse. His breath was coming fast as he spit in his hand, stroked himself twice, then swiftly entered her, thrusting deep, all the way inside.

Rose cried out, her head tilting back, her fingers clenching in the cushions on the back of the couch. It had been weeks since they’d last made love, so her passage had tightened up. It hurt just a bit, but she liked it, that feeling of _knowing_ that he was stretching her, filling her, that slight burn on the first few thrusts until her body adjusted. He held her tightly by her biceps, pounding into her, the sound of their thighs slapping together seeming so loud, mixed with the Doctor’s animalistic grunts and Rose’s high, lusty cries.

She was just starting to get close when he suddenly pulled out of her all the way. She whined incoherently in frustration, but the sound was cut off as he spun her around to face him. Put off balance, she almost fell backward, but managed to catch herself on the back of the sofa with one hand. The Doctor didn’t stop. He grabbed one of her legs and propped it up on the arm of the sofa, spreading her wide. When he entered her again, a deep moan escaped her, as this position allowed him to hit that spot inside that made her entire body quiver. She put her free hand on his shoulder to steady herself, her nails digging tracks into his skin as he moved at a furious pace, until there seemed to be nothing left of Rose but sensation.

Stretched over the couch and balanced precariously on one foot as she was, Rose was grateful the Doctor was holding onto her, gripping her hips so tight, she was sure she’d have bruises the next day. She looked forward to it. The proof that she was his. It would fade eventually, but the scar across his chest never would, so she would cherish those bruises while they lasted.

As the pressure began to build to a fever pitch at her center, Rose was gasping in each breath, hardly able to breathe, feeling like she’d been running a marathon. The Doctor wasn’t much better, his nostrils flared on each breath in and the air hissed out through his tightly clenched teeth. His head was slightly bent as he watched his cock ram in and slide out of her. He could live to a hundred and never get tired of that erotic sight. It was incredible to him, she was incredible, that she would welcome him into her arms, her body, that she wanted him, loved him.

“My Rose, mine,” he grit out. He was trembling, unable to contain himself as he felt his bollocks tightening, his orgasm coming closer. “Touch, love,” he stuttered, hardly able to get out the words, hoping she understood. “Gonna come…”

She moved her hand from his shoulder down to her clit and her head fell back as she stroked herself. Then her mouth was open and she was screaming his name, his real name, and her core was clenching around him. Release slammed into him and he bent over her arched body, thrusting in as far as he could and holding her still. He groaned loud and long as he pulsed deep inside her, filling her with his come.

It was no surprise that they both collapsed sideways onto the sofa, one of her legs flung over his hips, his cock still buried in her. They lay there for a long time, tangled around one another, struggling to regain their breath, little aftershocks chasing through them in the wake of such a drawn-out orgasm. Dazedly, he tried to count how many times her inner muscles grabbed at him, the sensation giving him a hazy sense of pride as he drifted on the cusp of sleep.

“Doctor?” she eventually whispered.

“Nnghmm,” he mumbled, burrowing his face closer to her neck.

She giggled softly. “The bedroom?”

“Mm.” His arms tightened around her waist. It was clear he wasn’t going anywhere soon.

Shaking her head slightly, and admittedly tired herself, Rose grabbed the throw blanket off the back of the couch and awkwardly managed to cover the two of them. She was sure they would be a sticky mess when the Doctor finally managed to rouse himself; they had both come so hard and his softening length was trapping their combined fluids inside her. She couldn’t help a private smile at that. He hadn’t even tried to remove himself, like he wanted to stay inside of her, as close as he could possibly get.

In all honesty, future messiness didn’t really matter to her. It would, in all likelihood, just lead to another romp in the shower. They were home, he was safe, and that was currently all she cared about.

* * *

The next morning, the Doctor was still asleep on the sofa by the time Rose was making breakfast, already showered and dressed. She grinned as she poked her head through the doorway to look at him, his fringe falling sweetly over his eyes, thinking she must have really worn him out. Her smile lingered as she turned back to the stove, feeling utterly domestic as she wielded the spatula and lifted the lid on the frying pan to check the status of the omelette.

The puff of steam that rose into her face, smelling of congealing eggs, made her stomach give a sudden lurch. Clapping a hand over her mouth, she dashed for the loo and heaved into the toilet. There wasn’t much in her stomach, but she remained kneeling on the floor a moment longer until the nausea passed.

Rose’s eyes widened with a sudden realization. Could it be morning sickness? Mentally, she counted the weeks since her last period and suddenly felt sick all over again. She was late. Not by a lot, but still…

She shook her head. No, she had to be reacting to the recent stress they’d been through. That _had_ to be it.

When she returned to the kitchen, she found the Doctor scraping the burned omelette into the trash, the acrid smell of charred food filling the air.

“Hey, you forget you were cooking something?” he teased. “You’re lucky I smelled the eggs burning and got to it before the smoke alarm went off. Contrary to popular belief, it’s a safety device, not a food timer.”

“Sorry,” she said, feeling too worried to respond to his cheek or even appreciate that he was still fully naked.

He glanced up. “Everything okay?” he asked as he set the pan in the sink.

Rose forced a smile. “Yeah. Yeah,” she said, moving to the refrigerator. “Just bummed about the food. Toast okay?”

“Sure,” he said. He watched her for a moment longer, but she didn’t say anything else, so he went to the window and opened it to let the slight bit of smoke out, then went to go pull on his robe.

She wasn’t able to eat very much and the Doctor finished off her toast for her. She was still feeling sick and her stomach was roiling with nerves. She wondered how he would feel, if she really was pregnant. They’d never talked about kids. They’d never even discussed marriage. He lifted an eyebrow at her as she continued to stare at him across the table.

“Do I have jam on my face?” he asked, finally, his tongue darting out to the corners of his mouth, searching for wayward blobs of preserves.

Rose blinked, realizing how lost in thought she must appear. “No!” she said, a little too suddenly. She stood up and began clearing the table, avoiding his eye. “We should hurry or you’ll be late.”

Again, he didn’t say anything, but his gaze was a bit suspicious when she chanced to glance his way.

Later, as the Doctor posed with the band in the bright sunlight during an outdoor photoshoot, Rose stood to one side with her notebook, pretending to be working on a new lyric. In reality, she was watching the Doctor, trying to predict his reaction to a maybe-baby.

She didn’t think he would want her to abort it, but his life was so busy. Despite Amy and Rory having a baby, Rose didn’t think the lifestyle in the public eye would be great for a kid. And Rose was so young, still practically a kid herself. She wasn’t ready to be a mother.

She groaned, closing her eyes on another wave of nausea. She hadn’t been able to eat since her few bites of toast that morning, but she’d still been throwing up periodically all day. The sun felt too hot and her head felt dizzy. Her mind turned and turned, wondering if she was pregnant, wondering what she was going to do…

The next thing she was aware of, Rose was lying on her back, blinking up at a white ceiling. How… did she get inside? What happened?

The Doctor’s face hovered into view, tense with worry. “Rose? Are you alright?”

“What…?” she asked, her tongue thick and slow.

“You fainted,” he said, his brows drawn together. “I brought you inside.” She turned her head and saw that she was lying on a couch in the studio break room. “Should we call you an  ambulance? Is there something you need to tell me?”

She froze. “N-no,” she said, unable to look him in the eye. “It was just… the heat. And I haven’t eaten a lot today. I’m probably dehydrated, too. Stupid, I know.”

He stroked her cheek tenderly, but the dimple in his jaw ticked. “Okay,” he said, not pushing it. “Get some rest and drink some water. I’ll be nearby.”

Rose sighed deeply when the door clicked shut behind him. She threw an arm over her eyes. She knew she couldn’t keep this from the Doctor for long, he was far too perceptive. What she needed to do was find out for sure.

Easier said than done. After lunch, she went out to a drug store and stared at all the pregnancy tests. There were so many! Blue lines, pink dots, yes or no, smiley faces? Which one was the best? Her heart thudded as she glanced around the store. There were so many people around. What if someone saw her? What if the paparazzi found out? What if they put it in the paper before she could even tell the Doctor? If he found out that way--!

She left without buying anything, feeling ridiculous. If she was too chicken to even purchase a test… What was she going to do if she was really pregnant? How was she going to tell the Doctor? She just wasn’t ready for any of this!

_I’m scared,_ said a little voice inside her. Admitting it didn’t make it easier.

Rose went back to Their Flat, resolving to go to another drug store the next day, maybe wearing a hat and sunglasses or something… She stopped at the entrance to the living room, startled to see the Doctor sitting on the sofa, waiting for her.

“Oh, you’re… done with work today already?” she asked, setting down her purse. “If I’d known, I would have waited for you. I had to get some shopping done and thought you wouldn’t be back til late…”

He got to his feet, an easy unfolding of limbs, and ambled over with a smile. “I was worried about you, so I decided to skip practice.” His hands went to her hips, drawing her in close, and he leaned down to kiss her neck. “We’ve got the whole evening to ourselves.”

Rose’s heart pounded as he started moving them back toward the bedroom, too nervous to be distracted by his increasingly fervent kisses and wandering hands. If she was pregnant and he laid on top of her, would it hurt the baby? Were they not supposed to have sex? She didn’t know! Maybe if she’d paid more attention in health class…

“Doctor,” she said, pushing at his shoulders a little. “Maybe we could have dinner--”

“Mm, not hungry for food,” he said, his lips at her ear.

“But--” She gasped as his hand slipped under her skirt, palming her mound through her knickers. The words tumbled out of her like an avalanche, “I think I might be pregnant!”

He stilled and lifted his head. His eyes were serious, clear from the haze of arousal, when he said, “That’s what I thought.”

Her mouth fell open and she pushed away from him. “You knew?” she asked.

“I suspected.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared!” she said, clutching at her shirt. What a rotten way to get her to confess!

“What did you think I was gonna do?” he asked, angrily. “Rose, you _know_ me! What do I have to do to get you to trust me?”

Her eyes flashed. “You arse!” she shot back. “You idiot! You don’t get it, Doctor! You don’t know how I feel!” She lashed out, hitting him in the chest with her fists, her vision blurring with the onslaught of angry tears. “I _do_ trust you, you should _know_ that, but I’m scared to death!” How could she make him understand how confused and upset she was? And all he’d been concerned about was the fact that she hadn’t told him. What about her? What about how _she_ felt? “Sometimes I really hate you!” She spun around, dashing tears from her eyes as she headed for the bathroom. “Forget it, just forget it!”

He grabbed her wrist, tugging her back to him and into his arms.

“No!” she said, fighting the embrace. “You don’t just get to--”

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice gentle. “I’m so sorry. You’re right. I-- I don’t know how a woman feels at a time like this. But I can’t just sit by and watch you struggle on your own. I want to hold you, comfort you.” He pulled back and brushed her hair out of her face. “I should be thinking about what you need. What do you want me to do?”

She pressed her lips together, appreciating his acknowledgment of her feelings, and knowing he was right. It wasn’t fair of her to go it alone, especially not when it was something that concerned both of their lives. They were supposed to share everything - happiness, sadness, suffering, pain. All of it.

“I’m sorry I lied,” she said.

He shook his head as if it was no consequence. “I’m sorry I was an arse. Not the first time, won’t be the last. We’ll go to the hospital tomorrow and find out for sure, okay?” She nodded. He cupped her face in his hands. “After that… we’ll decide what to do together.” She nodded again and he smiled, leaning his forehead against hers. “Don’t worry. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. No matter what.”

Rose sighed and nuzzled into his embrace, feeling silly for being so insecure and not telling him right off. This was her Doctor. She trusted him and they were in this together.

* * *

The young blond doctor returned to the room Rose had been waiting in for the last fifteen minutes with a folder of paperwork in his hands. “I have your results,” he said with a mild smile.

She squared her shoulders, determined to face whatever the man said with maturity, even though the Doctor wasn’t there to see her putting on a good face. He’d come with her, but she’d insisted on finding out alone, just in case her nerves got the better of her and she broke down. She didn’t want him to see her like that. He’d wanted her to be as comfortable as possible, so he’d agreed and was waiting across the street at a park.

“Alright,” she said, her voice firm. “Give it to me straight.”

He sat down opposite her. “You’re not pregnant,” he said.

Her stomach, which had felt like lead, ballooned into orbit.

“Your period is likely late due to stress and exhaustion,” the doctor went on.

Rose let out a breath, her posture slumping. “I feel… relieved,” she admitted. “But disappointed, too. It’s all… mixed up. How am I supposed to feel?”

He chuckled lightly. “There is no ‘supposed to.’ Everyone is different. I _can_ tell you how you’re feeling is completely normal, if it makes you feel better.” He paused, then said, seriously, “Rose, you can’t raise a child on love alone.” She looked up, but the doctor’s face was kind, without judgement. “You need commitment and confidence. Isn’t that the kind of mother you want to be? You’re very young. It’s okay to feel relieved. When you and the man you love are ready to have a child, I’ll still be here, alright?”

She nodded. He was right. There wasn’t any need to feel guilty about not being ready, it was just a fact. “Thank you very much,” she said, shaking the man’s hand.

* * *

“So… you’re not pregnant,” said the Doctor as they walked along a tree lined path, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his long tan coat.

She shrugged. “Nope. Sorry for making such a big deal.”

“Don’t be. It _is_ a big deal.” He paused. “Or… was. Would have been. You know what I mean.”

She giggled softly. “Yeah.” After a moment, she reached over and grabbed his sleeve. “Hey.”

He looked at her, eyebrows lifted slightly. “What?”

She tilted her head. “If I was pregnant…” She touched her tongue to her teeth. “How exactly would you propose?” He nearly fell over his own feet and she laughed as he gaped at her. “Relax,” she said, waving a hand at him. “I’m kidding.”

He smirked and shook his head, then continued walking. “I’m not telling,” he cheekily threw over his shoulder.

It was her turn to gape. Just what did he mean by that? Did he really intend to ask her someday? Her heart soared, just from the thought, and she jogged to catch up to him. Wrapping her arms around his bicep, she touched her chin to his shoulder with a smile. He could keep his little secret. She could wait.

* * *

_You bring me to the brink, tied up in your knots and your rules,_   
_I’m sick of this game of seduction, but I’ll follow to the end like a fool._   
_Our hearts and bodies belong together,_   
_I just want one night without all your props,_   
_No bottom, no Top,_   
_But you never, ever stop._   
_I’m about to explode and who is to blame?_   
_I cried and you came._   
_Don’t want you to play me, but we both know_   
_We’ll be here again, in your black leather tableau._   
_When I kneel at your feet, your blood red smile will sweeten_   
_Because I’m a man who knows when he’s been beaten._

Romana pressed the spacebar on her laptop, pausing the playback of Paradox’s latest single, _Player_. She closed the lid of the computer and focused her attention on the band gathered around the conference table. “Okay, so that’s the final cut. Lyrically, it’s not too far from your previous recordings, but musically, it’s harder and we want to go in that direction. We’re going to put a lot of effort towards publicity that will support this subtle shift in the marketing. Obviously, a music video is our best tool.” She turned in her chair and smiled at Rose. “Any thoughts? As a member of the team and as a fan,” she asked. “What side of the Doctor do you want to see?”

Rose considered for a moment, thinking about the lyrics she’d written, then said, “I want to see him cry.”

“What?!” The Doctor swung around to stare at her. “Rose!”

Van Statten snickered. “This isn’t a love song, kid. We’re looking for a _sexy_ visual.”

Rose wasn’t cowed by the manager’s disdain or the Doctor’s reaction at all. She defended her choice calmly. “Seeing someone cry who never shows the slightest vulnerability? I’m sorry, but I think that’s hot. I’d feel like I’d been let in on a secret. Like he was sharing something of himself with me.”

The Doctor just continued to stare with his mouth half open, but Romana was nodding.

“She’s right,” the producer said, “She’s absolutely right! It’ll create a buzz, and I like the contrast against the harder sound.” She grinned at the Doctor. “Okay. Looks like you’re gonna cry, big boy.”

He sat back in his chair without saying anything, but his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and he pulled on his left ear. Rose recognized his tell. He was nervous. She laced her hand through his under the table, but he just squeezed it once, distractedly. She hoped she hadn’t made things difficult for him with her suggestion.

On the day of the shoot, she found him sitting on a crate with his head bowed, his forearms resting on his leather trouser-clad thighs, his hands limp between his legs. She stroked his bare shoulder and he looked up.

“Hey,” she said, her eyebrows lifting in question. “Are you mad? Do you hate me for this?”

He gave a little smile and shook his head. “No. Just getting my head together so I can make all the ladies cry with me,” he said with a wink that made her blush.

“Doctor, we’re ready for you,” said a teamster who jogged up. He held a little clear bottle in his hand. “We got you eyedrops.”

The Doctor got to his feet and brushed passed the young man. “Don’t need ‘em.”

“Quiet on set!” the director called as the Doctor took his mark. Amy checked his hair one last time, then moved out of frame. “Roll camera. Speed! And… action!”

The Doctor closed his eyes, letting his head fall slightly forward. The only sound was the quiet tick of the camera as the film rolled. Rose’s heart began to beat harder in her chest when he looked up again, his lips slightly parted.

Twin tears rolled down his cheeks like perfect pearls in the studio lighting. He buried his hands in his hair, looking at the camera with eyes that turned to bright amber as he cried. He touched his face, framing his eyes through his fingers as more tears fell. He let his hands drop and he looked down, his eyelashes making dark, spiky crescents on his cheeks. He was _really_ crying.

It was hot as hell.

He was utterly gorgeous. Rose knew how strong he was, always protecting her, never showing any fear, so seeing him weep… it was like seeing him exposed. Vulnerable. Naked.

_I should have kept my mouth shut,_ she thought, unable to take her eyes off of him. _I want to be the only one who gets to see him this way!_

The director called cut after one take. Rose was breathless and she suspected most of the women on the set (and some of the men) were as well. She handed him an Oxford as he walked off-set and he pulled it on, but didn’t bother to button it.

“That was beautiful,” she said, feeling like the word didn’t do his performance justice.

He wrinkled his nose. “Beautiful? It’s not beautiful when a man cries, Rose. It’s pathetic.”

“No, it isn’t!” she argued, following him over to the craft services table. “It’s sexy to see someone open up!”

“It’s childish,” he said, grabbing a bottle of water. “It isn’t the same.”

He almost choked on the water when she asked, “What were you thinking about?”

Managing to swallow, he took a bit longer than necessary to screw the cap back into place. “You,” he said, finally, in a quiet voice.

“Me?” she repeated, surprised. “What do you mean? _I_ made you cry?”

He tugged on his ear, keeping his eyes on the floor. “I pretended you were in pain and there wasn’t anything I could do to help you. I couldn’t reach you, couldn’t-- do anything.” He shrugged. “It was the worst thing I could think of.” When her expression crumpled, he smiled and booped her nose. “Don’t worry. I’ll never let that happen.”

She grabbed him around the waist, hugging him tightly. “I love you!” she cried.

He tucked her head beneath his chin and chuckled, pressing a kiss to her crown. “I love you, too, wolf girl.”


	15. Rival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Masterworks Productions has a new singer and when her path crosses the Doctor's, a familiar face comes back to haunt them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being patient while I dealt with life stuff.
> 
> Some of you may have seen my announcement on Tumblr, that I am getting "A Marriage of Convenience" ready to submit to a publisher (using different names for the characters and changing some details), so this is going to be taking up some of my time now. Updates for this fic will be slower than they have been in the past, but hopefully not as long a wait as it was this time. Thanks again for the patience and for your support and encouragement.
> 
> Betaed by myprvvalentine and there is a reference to a fic written by Kelkat9, though she's taken it down. Ten points if you spot it! :D

 

Cameras whirred and snapped as the Doctor stepped up to the microphone, dressed in a sharp brown pinstriped suit, to address the members of the press gathered in Kasterborous’s large conference room. He smiled, his grin flashing confidently, and leaned forward, speaking clearly into the mic, “Thank you on behalf of the band and myself for coming today. I’m pleased to report I’ve been given a clean bill of health. We want to thank all our fans for their support during the downtime, so we’re announcing today a four-month release schedule.”

He went on to describe the band’s next projects, which would begin with two new singles, a concert tour in the third month, and a video compilation being released in the final fourth. It promised to be busy for everyone, Rose included, but after spending so much time in recovery, the Doctor was eager to get back to his music, and his muse.

Rose turned the sound up on the television as the program switched from the press conference to the band’s new video of _Player._ The presenter introduced it enthusiastically, mentioning how the presence of a ‘certain bodily fluid’ featured in the video had made quite a stir. Rose grinned. The Doctor’s tears still moved her every time she saw the piece.

The television suddenly clicked off and Rose turned to see the Doctor standing in the archway leading from the kitchen, holding the remote in one hand and a plate of red grapes in the other.

“Hey, I was watching that,” she said.

He frowned. “Rose, I’m right in front of you. Why would you want to see me on telly?”

She traced a design on the sofa with her index finger. “Well, Paradox hasn’t been on very much, so I’ve missed seeing you.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head as he sat down next to her. “I’ll pretend that made some sort of sense.” She smacked him in the arm and he flinched away, pretending hurt. “Oi! Be nice, or I’ll just eat these grapes all by myself!”

She wrinkled her nose at him then looked at the fruit curiously. “Where’d you get grapes? They’re out of season. You must have had to go across town.”

“No, we used them in a photoshoot,” he said, plucking one from the vine and setting the rest on the coffee table. “A weird thing with togas.”

She lifted her brows, touching her tongue to her smile. “Ooh, I’d’ve liked to see that!”

He grinned. “Maybe I’ll grab a bedsheet and give you a preview later.” He held up the grape and she let him pop it into her mouth. “I knew you liked these, so I asked if I could take them once we were through. How are they?”

She tilted her head as she chewed and swallowed. “Okay. The skin’s a little bitter.”

Without asking, he took another grape and cut into the red skin with a fingernail, deftly divesting the fruit of its covering. “Try this one,” he said, holding up the wet peeled grape for her.

Rose felt her cheeks heating slightly as his fingers brushed her lips. Slowly, she chewed the sweet fruit, watching the Doctor take another and begin to peel it. It felt so decadent, the Doctor feeding her peeled grapes. She felt like she ought to be lounging on a pile of pillows, with another Doctor fanning her with a large palm frond. Hmm… casual Doctor like he was now, in jeans and a t-shirt, and Paradox Doctor, complete with leather trousers… Ooh, what a combination!

“Don’t, uh-- don’t you want one?” she asked when he provided the next grape for her.

“I’m fine,” he said, giving her a cheeky little wink. “I got them for you.”

She took the grape, this time sucking one of his fingers into her mouth as well. She wasn’t disappointed when she saw his brown eyes dilate, the irises getting slowly swallowed by the black pupils. “How long before I can show you my gratitude?” she asked.

His gaze lowered to the vest top she had on, where it dipped low in the front, showing off her cleavage. “Hmm, what’s this?” he said, snaking one hand under the hem and running his fingers up her side. She moaned as he rolled one nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “Did you drop a grape down your shirt, Rose?” he teased.

“That’s not a grape, and you know it,” she said, her voice dropping to a throaty purr.

“I don’t know,” he said, his left hand joining the right under her top to palm her other breast. “I think I should taste it to make sure.”

Rose leaned back, presenting her chest to him with a smile, as he shoved her shirt up and lowered his head. He dragged his tongue around one nipple, then the other, feeling them tighten under his attention. He sucked each taut bud into his mouth and gently pulled with his teeth until her eyes fluttered shut and she moaned again.

“Mmm,” he hummed appreciatively. “Definitely not grapes. But still very sweet.” Straightening up, he caught the back of her head in one hand and pulled her closer for a kiss, catching the soft noise she made as he licked the roof of her mouth. “You taste sweet, too,” he murmured against her lips, sliding kisses back along her jaw.

All thoughts of grapes were forgotten as he lay her down on the sofa and crawled over her, fitting himself into the cradle of her hips. He gently rutted against her, letting her feel how hot for her he already was.

The ringtone of his mobile cut through the heady atmosphere and his head fell onto her chest as he groaned in frustration. Getting to his feet in irritation, he went and fished his phone out of his jacket pocket, muttering about strangling whoever was on the other end. Rose sat up, biting her lip in amusement, and ran a hand through her mussed hair. The Doctor definitely did _not_ like being interrupted.

“What?” he demanded, the mobile to his ear. _“What?”_ he asked again after a pause, his voice climbing in pitch. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good, Rose could see the angry dimple standing out in his cheek. “No sodding way! Tell him to go to hell! Rose writes for Paradox and anyway, I don’t want her anywhere _near_ him!” He put a hand on his hip. “Well, that’s _your_ job, isn’t it? Take care of it!”

The Doctor viciously pushed the button to end the call and tossed the mobile onto the nearby table, tension in every line of his body. Rose stood up, her brow furrowing in concern as the call had obviously been about her.

“What’s going on?” she asked, cautiously, uncertain of his mood.

“Van Statten says another performer wants you to write lyrics for them,” he said, tersely.

“Me?” she said, her eyebrows lifting. She couldn’t help but feel flattered, she was still such a recent songwriter. “Did he say who it was?”

“Some new girl singer. Lucy something.” He made a curt gesture with one hand, his eyes dark with warning, though Rose could tell it wasn’t directed at her. “What’s important is who’s producing her.” He sighed, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “It’s my brother.”

* * *

Masterworks Productions didn’t attempt to contact Rose again about the lyrics and the call was soon forgotten as Paradox worked to finalize the first of the two new singles. This one was a ballad, in direct contrast with _Player,_ a song called _Moonflower._ Rose and the Doctor had worked on this one closely, another wolf-themed song, with sexy references to lycan lovers getting wild in the woods under a full moon. They already had storyboards drawn up for the video that would be filmed in the fourth month, with the Doctor wearing red lenses and long canine teeth. Feral Doctor! Rose couldn’t wait.

They read in the trade papers that Lucy Cole, Masterworks’ new performer, debuted the same day as _Moonflower’s_ release. Very few members of the press came to see her perform and as a result, Paradox’s new single trounced her in publicity. Where she was mentioned in the papers at all, it was mostly out of sympathy. There were only two pictures of her. She was a pretty woman, slender, with long blonde hair and big, dreamy, blue eyes. She had a penchant for wearing a lot of red, slinky outfits onstage, but appeared to be more business-like in skirt-suits and pearls behind the scenes. The papers said she had a fairly versatile voice, though the attempt to match Paradox’s sensual lyrics in her song was a poor one. The Doctor had little sympathy, considering who she worked for, but Rose felt bad for her. Dodgy production house aside, it was a tough business, and Lucy didn’t even have a band to support her.

The Doctor surprised Rose with a stay in the penthouse suite at the recently opened Farquar Hotel downtown after the single’s release party. She tried not to gape as they crossed the foyer. Everything was brand-sparkling-new, with an abundance of glass, gleaming white marble, and tasteful gold touches amid the maroon and cream furnishings.

He leaned down and nuzzled Rose’s neck as they went up in the lift. “Hope you didn’t plan on getting any sleep tonight,” he teased.

She pushed at his arm. “You perv,” she said, unable to help the coy smile that slid across her lips.

They exited the lift at the top floor, but the Doctor paused rather than head for the room they’d been given. His brow furrowed as he looked down the hall in the opposite direction.

Noticing that he wasn’t following her, Rose stopped and turned back. “Doctor? What is it?” she asked.

He placed the key card in her hand. “Go to the room and wait for me. Make sure the bar is drawn. When I come back, make sure you check that it’s me. You understand?” he asked, looking straight into her eyes with an intensity that worried her.

“Of course,” she said, a bit stunned.

“I’ll explain later.”

He hurried away. Wondering what could have concerned him so, Rose went directly to the room and closed the door securely behind her, sliding the bar into place as he’d said. She wrapped her arms around herself and sat down on the plush sofa. She couldn’t even enjoy the lavish surroundings, not until he returned and explained his behavior.

The Doctor moved with long, fast steps to the room where he’d seen Lucy Cole enter with the well-known television personality, Sec Diagoras. He’d recognize that smarmy greaseball anywhere. He might look polished and business-like, with his expensive suits and slicked hair, but the Doctor knew what the man was really like behind the scenes. Diagoras paid a lot of money to cover up his scandals, but word always got around. The Doctor stopped at the door and leaned close, striving to hear what was going on through the thick hotel door. He wanted to be sure before he acted on his suspicions.

“What did you want to talk about?” Lucy asked.

“You appearing on my show,” Diagoras answered. “I’m considering it.”

“Really? That’s wonderful!” Lucy exclaimed. “An appearance on your show practically guarantees a spot on the charts!”

“Hold on,” he said. “I need a little more convincing.”

There was a crash and a shriek inside the room and the Doctor put his hand on the knob. Of course, it didn’t move. The doors locked automatically from the outside without a card for entry.

“You came here wanting me to sell you, isn’t that right?” Diagoras asked, nastily. “Well, I’ve got to sample the goods first, know what it is I’m selling!”

“No!”

The Doctor knocked on the door. “Room service,” he said in an affected voice.

Hard footsteps approached the door. “I didn’t order any--” Diagoras cut himself off when he saw the Doctor standing there. “Paradox!” he exclaimed, gaping like a fish. “Ah-- the Doctor, isn’t it? What are you doing here?”

“Diagoras,” the Doctor greeted him with a cold smile. “I thought I recognized you.” He angled his chin over the other man’s shoulder to indicate Lucy who was sitting up from the bed, clutching her jacket closed. Her hair was falling out of the bun on top of her head and her blue eyes were wide with fright. “That girl is a friend of mine.” He pinned Diagoras with a hard stare. “You’re being good to her, aren’t you?”

“A friend of yours?” Diagoras repeated, standing back as Lucy rushed past him and out the door. “I wish I’d known… Our conversation just got a little heated that’s all.” He nodded at Lucy. “You can go on home, sweetheart, I’ll need some time to think about your proposal.” He quickly shut the door on both of them.

The Doctor exhaled, then glanced at Lucy, whose face was bright red. “That weasel is famous for preying on young women,” he explained. “Watch yourself.”

“W-why’d you help me?” she stuttered.

He’d already begun to walk away and looked over his shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I?” He shrugged. “Someone I care about was preyed on before. Let’s just say it was for her.”

He didn’t look back again as he made his way to the room where Rose waited. He smiled as there was a pause after his knock and he cheekily lifted his eyebrow at the peephole. The door rattled as the bar was withdrawn and then she was tugging him inside and wrapping her arms around him.

“Did I scare you, wolf girl?” he asked, threading his fingers through her hair.

“You know you did,” she said, a note of censure in her tone. “What was that all about?”

He explained about seeing Lucy with Diagoras and the man’s reputation. Rose kissed him afterward and called him a champion of women. He smiled, but still asked, “Really? You don’t think I’m being a chauvinist who thinks a woman can’t defend herself, so the big, strong man has to step in to take care of her?”

“Well, you don’t really think I can’t defend myself, do you?” she asked.

“Nooo,” he said, shaking his head, not willing to open that can of worms. “It’s just in my nature to want to protect you. And I guess… I saw her and thought about you. No woman should ever be put in that position.”

“Even though she works for your brother?”

He wrinkled his nose, but nodded. “Even then.”

She kissed him again. “You are so getting lucky tonight.”

“I know!”

She smacked his chest, but he just grinned away.

“Do you want to see why I booked this room?” He led her through the sitting room and into the bedroom where the curtains were drawn back to reveal a long bank of windows. It was quite similar to the hotel room they’d been in before, when he’d teased her up against the glass, but this room held no other, more worrisome, memories.

Rose went right up to the window and looked down. The lights of London were spread out below, a twinkling canopy of night life. She sighed deeply and the Doctor brought his arms around her, holding her from behind.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Every single one of those lights is a life,” she said. “All different people with different destinies.” She covered his hands with her own. “I guess it just makes me wonder why you chose _me_ out of so many.”

He chuckled softly. “You’re thinking about this all wrong, wolf girl.” He turned her in his arms and tilted her face up to his with the crook of his index finger. “I didn’t _choose_ you. I went _looking_ for you. And you found me.” He brushed the back of his hand across her cheek and slid his fingers into her hair to cradle the nape of her neck. “You were my fate all along.”

Maybe it was a little corny, but because she knew he meant it, Rose felt her eyes beginning to mist. She just loved him so much. Closing her eyes, she lifted up on her toes to kiss him again, moaning at the feel of his tongue caressing hers. She didn’t want to waste any time with tears, not when they had all night stretching out in front of them, the hours waiting to be filled.

* * *

Lucy’s single went to number eight on the charts, but she was still behind Paradox with _Moonflower_ in first and _Player_ in sixth. It wasn’t bad for a new artist, but Rose figured the woman’s ego had to be smarting, losing to a song that had been out for a month. Later that week, when Lucy was booked on the same chat show with the Doctor, it was obvious that she was riding Paradox’s coattails. It was a smart move on Masterworks’ part, but the Doctor had no desire to help Lucy’s career, even inadvertently. He told Van Statten to decline anything with Lucy Cole in the future.

Rose went to the filming of the video package that would air prior to the interview. She felt like she _had_ to be there, to stake her claim in front of the other woman. Which was ridiculous, because she couldn’t even be _near_ the Doctor, with all the fans around. She didn’t want the Doctor to see her being a silly possessive girlfriend, so she pulled her hair back into a bun and dressed in one of his pinstriped suits. With dark sunglasses, she hoped she’d blend into the crowd and he’d think she was just another fan, dressed up like him.

As she lingered behind the barricades with the noisy crowd, Rose couldn’t help being jealous of the fact that Lucy got to be out in public with the Doctor. She fumed as Lucy threaded her arm through the Doctor’s and the director instructed them to walk toward the camera as though they were talking. The two of them looked far too cozy for Rose’s liking and she had to admit, grudgingly, that they looked good together; the Doctor’s dark good looks set off Lucy’s willowy blonde features perfectly. She was a better height for him, too, she wouldn’t have to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him the way Rose did. _And_ Lucy was a celebrity.

Rose’s fingers curled into fists as Lucy leaned closer to the Doctor, smiling happily. Rose never got to be like that with him in the open! It wasn’t fair! She pressed her lips together, swallowing the frustration with difficulty. She shouldn’t have come…

As she turned to go, the Doctor’s voice raised above the crowd Rose stood in, “Leaving without saying hello, Rose?” A hand circled her arm and gently swung her back around. The crowd made noises of disappointment, but he winked at them all, charming them into letting him have his moment.

Still, she avoided his eye. “I didn’t want to interrupt,” she hedged.

“What’s with the outfit?” he asked, looking her up and down. “I like it, but then, I’m usually the one wearing it. It’s not you.”

Her face turned red. “Well, uh…” She fiddled with the bottom of the jacket. “I’m supposed to be you. A lot of your fans dress up like the band… I just thought…”

The Doctor snorted, then laughed out loud, his mirth growing in volume by the second. Rose smacked at his arm, mortified and outraged.

“Don’t laugh at me!”

“No, no, I love it!” he exclaimed, his smile so wide, his eyes nearly closed. “I think you’re sexy when you’re being a goof.”

She smacked him again. “I am not!” She shook her head. “Wait, I mean not _goofy!_ Oh, you’re so mean! Quit laughing at me!” But he only laughed harder and pulled her into a hug.

They didn’t see Lucy watching the two of them with her eyes narrowed.

* * *

“Do you tell Tyler Prentice what to write?” Lucy asked him inside the television studio later, as they sat in makeup chairs side by side, waiting for their time to be on set.

The Doctor glanced at her in the mirror, wondering why she wanted to know, but there was no hesitation in his answer. “Never. Though sometimes he asks what direction the song should go.”

“What do you tell him?”

He looked over his reflection’s shoulder to gaze at Rose, who stood against the back wall like she usually did. Out of the way, but observing everything. “I tell him how the song _feels._ I trust him. He understands Paradox. And me. I write all my songs with him in mind.”

“You sound like you’re talking about a lover.” Lucy was smirking when the Doctor’s eyes flicked back to her.

“Of course it does,” he said. “Songwriters have to fall in love with each other’s talents. It’s love that turns words and music into a _song.”_ He looked at the floor, a private smile creeping into the corners of his mouth. “I don’t think I really knew that until I met him.”

* * *

Rose went home on her own after the interview was over, since the Doctor had to go to band practice back at Kasterborous. He went down to the underground parking garage beneath the studio, humming a snippet of a new song he was working on, but stopped a few feet from his car in surprise. Lucy was standing there, waiting for him.

“I-- I have something to tell you,” she stuttered, clasping her hands in front of herself. She had changed into a simple wool skirt with a matching heather gray jacket, a stark contrast from her uber sexy on-camera look. A pink blush lingered on her cheeks. “There’s just-- something I want you to know.”

“Oi!”

Lucy and the Doctor turned to see a young man with a round, shaved head wearing a plain t-shirt and jeans coming angrily towards them. His fists were clenched, his face in a tight scowl. “You! You’re the Doctor! I finally found you, you bastard! If it hadn’t been for you--!”

“Who the hell are you?” the Doctor asked, furrowing his brow. Was this man drunk? What was he raving about?

“I’m the bloke who’s gonna teach you a lesson!” the man shouted, flicking a small metal item in his hand, which turned out to be a switchblade as a slender but wicked looking knife snicked out of it, flashing in the fluorescent light. He moved fast, his arm coming up in a broad arc. “When I’m done, they’ll all forget you!”

“No!” Lucy screamed, pushing the Doctor out of the man’s way. He never stopped, the blade slashed down and she shrieked in pain, falling backward onto the pavement.

The Doctor fell to his knees beside her, calling her name. The man with the knife looked at what he’d done with wide eyes, then turned and ran, apparently more concerned with the fact that he’d struck an innocent woman than making good on his threats to the Doctor.

Ignoring the sound of the man’s slapping footsteps receding into the distance, the Doctor fumbled with fishing his mobile out of his pocket while keeping one arm around Lucy. He couldn’t run after the maniac, much as he wanted to. Heather gray was fast turning blood red.

* * *

The Doctor stayed at the hospital while Lucy was in surgery. The wound wasn’t fatal, but ended up needing twenty stitches, and she would definitely be left with a scar, right across her bosom in a thick, harsh, diagonal line. By the time she was moved to a private room, Harry had shown up. Apparently, the stunt had him handling his client personally. They stood in silence, looking down at the pale woman who was still under sedation in the bed.

Harry eyed his half-brother speculatively. “The police caught the man who did it,” he said, finally, his voice impersonal. “Apparently, he was recently dumped by a girl who’s a big fan of yours.” He flicked imaginary lint from his sleeve. “Shame he had to mutilate my artist in the process.” Lifting an eyebrow, he crossed his arms. “What are you going to do about it? It’s _your_ fault, you know.”

“I know.” Resignation dripped from the two softly uttered words.

* * *

As the Doctor left the room a bit later, Rose came running up to him, concern written all over her expressive face. “I saw what happened on the news!” she said, slightly out of breath. “Why didn’t you call me? Are you alright? What happened to Lucy?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “She was stabbed by some psycho.” He swallowed hard. “She… protected me. She’ll have a scar on her chest. Because of me.”

“Poor thing,” said Rose, meaning Lucy, but the pain in the Doctor’s eyes was unmistakable. He felt awful.

“Rose, I--” He hesitated, looking at the floor. “I think I’m gonna stay here with Lucy for a while.”

Her heart squeezed and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Stay with her? “What?” was all she could manage to say. She realized he had to be feeling incredibly guilty, but… she didn’t _want_ him to stay with Lucy. He wasn’t responsible for what some crazy bloke did.

She didn’t resist when he took her hand and pulled her into the hospital room. It was empty save for the woman lying in the bed. Lucy’s blue eyes hardened when she saw Rose there and she struggled to sit up, holding the blanket to her chest, though she was wearing a pale turquoise hospital gown.

“What is she doing here?” Lucy demanded. “Bring her here to look at the freak now that I’m ruined as an attractive woman? You know the press is going to have a field day over this once they find out. They’ll ruin me as a singer, too! I suppose you think I deserve it, working for--”

“I’m going to protect you,” the Doctor broke in, making Lucy stop her tirade and blink in confusion. “I’ll stay here until you’re well enough to leave and I’ll handle the press. You’re my responsibility now.”

“You’ll-- you’ll stay with me?” Lucy repeated, a light blush spreading across her face. “You’ll protect me?”

“Yes,” he answered. “But I won’t return your feelings.”

Rose’s head snapped up. _What?_

“I’m not an idiot,” he continued. “I know what you wanted to tell me tonight. But I’m in love with Rose. And nothing is ever going to change that.”

Lucy ducked her head and stared at her hands, gathered in her lap. “I understand. I’m just glad you don’t hate me for feeling this way. I didn’t expect it to happen, but when you saved me, it just--” She shook her head. “Nevermind. If you’ll be here and you’ll protect me, then that’s enough. I never would have expected-- it’s more than I ever hoped for.”

He turned to Rose, reaching for her, his hands curling over her shoulders. “I want you to stay with Rory for a while, alright? I already talked to Amy.”

She nodded, despondent. At least he wasn’t sending her back to her mum’s.

Leaning down, he claimed her lips in a lingering, but chaste, kiss. “You’ll have fun playing house with Amy. You can text me while I’m gone and I’ll come get you soon. I promise.”

A tiny smile found its way to her face. She believed him. It would be okay. Because she knew that he loved her.

* * *

It was three days later when the doubt crept back. The Doctor did call her every day, but it just wasn’t the same. The gossip rags had pictures of Lucy and the Doctor together and the articles were all speculation over whether or not they were in a relationship. Down at the corner newsagent, Rose looked at the pictures, fighting the jealousy. They did look close. His arm was around Lucy protectively and his mouth was open as he obviously was in mid-shout at a paparazzo.

She _knew_ he didn’t love Lucy, she _knew_ he was just with her because he felt responsible for her injury, but Rose couldn’t help it. She still hurt. “Oh, Doctor,” she sighed, her voice a thready moan of pain.

“Poor little thing,” drawled a tall young man standing near the newsagent. “Big fan of the Doctor’s, eh? My friend works down at the telly station. Want me to get his autograph?”

Rose put the gossip magazine down on the rack and turned away. “I’m fine, thanks,” she said, flatly.

“Hey, I’m telling the truth,” the man said, hurrying to catch up to her. He slid an arm around her waist, grinning lasciviously. “Why don’t you come with me and we’ll go there right now?”

Wrinkling her nose in distaste, she pushed at him, but he dug his fingers into her hip. “Get off!” she demanded.

The man opened his mouth to say something else, but all that came out was a sharp cry of pain. He let go of her at once as his body bent forward. Rose’s jaw dropped as she saw Harold Saxon effortlessly twisting her assailant’s arm behind his back.

“Touch this woman again and I’ll break your arm,” he said, smoothly.

Rose didn’t even hear the man’s response as he slunk away. She was frozen in place by Harry’s stare, his deep brown eyes penetrating her, like the Doctor’s often did. In that one feature, they were truly brothers.

“I was hoping I’d get to see you smile,” he said, his voice almost gentle. “I guess not.” He cleared his throat and put his hands behind his back. It seemed like a calculated move, one designed to put her at ease. “I understand you may be having some difficulties, and I don’t mean what just happened. Since Miss Cole is my client, I feel somewhat responsible. I also may be a complete fool for asking, but…” He wet his lips, his expression hesitant. It almost made him look boyish. “You look like you could use a drink. Can I be the one to buy it?”

She should say no. She ought to kick him in the crotch and run. But… his offer was tempting. She didn’t want to complain to anyone in the band about her insecurities and she honestly didn’t care what Harry thought of her, so she could say anything she liked. There was no one else she could talk to about her relationship with the Doctor.

“One condition. We walk there. I’m not getting into a car with you,” she said, making him aware that he wasn’t going to pull a fast one on her.

He lifted his hands in acquiescence. “Anything you like.”


	16. Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose recklessly goes out for drinks with Harry and the Doctor has an unexpected visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW!

The hotel bar was just down the street and Harry chatted about mundane things as they made their way across the pavement - his flight back to England, his new flat - always keeping at least two feet of space between them. He made no moves to touch Rose, even innocuously, and he didn’t talk shop or press her to talk until they were each seated with a drink in hand.

Rose downed three bright pink cosmos as she told Harry about the situation with the Doctor spending so much time with Lucy, her own jealousy, the guilt she felt over it, and her frustration over staying away from him and having to live with Rory and Amy temporarily. The bartender placed a fourth cocktail at her elbow as Harry nodded, thoughtfully, stirring his scotch on the rocks with a slim red straw.

“Well, I can understand how that might be hard to take,” he said. “It’s not an easy thing sometimes, to see someone you care about in the company of someone else, no matter how platonic it might be.”

“It isn’t,” she said, dully. “At least, not for her. She’s in love with him.” She ran her finger around the rim of her glass, collecting the pink sugar. “If he wasn’t so compassionate, he wouldn’t be the Doctor I love, but…” She licked the sweet granules from her finger, the taste doing nothing to brighten her mood. “I just can’t handle it anymore.”

Closing her eyes, she pressed a fist to the space above the bridge of her nose, fighting the images her mind effortlessly conjured. “I keep seeing him with his arms around her, looking at her, smiling…” Her throat closed and she stopped abruptly to keep herself from sobbing. The alcohol had lowered her defenses enough that her eyes watered despite her resolve. “I hate that I feel like this! It feels selfish… and _ugly_ …” She shook her head and looked up at Harry, her golden eyes blazing bright. “But I miss him so much! I don’t care what happens to her!”

Harry’s glass clinked as he set it down on the bar. “I don’t believe that, Rose,” he said. “You’d care if something bad happened to her, wouldn’t you? Like before, with the attack?”

She sniffed and took a sip of her drink. “...Yeah,” she admitted, finally. “It’s not like I _want_ anything to happen to her. I just… need him, too.”

A half-smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “That sounds more like you.”

* * *

The doorbell cut through the Doctor’s piano playing, startling him out of the trance-like state he’d been in while just allowing the music to carry him away. He rose from the piano bench and rolled his shoulders with a grimace, wondering how long he’d been sitting there.

He pressed the speakerbox button. “Yes?”

“Doctor? It’s Lucy.”

His brow furrowed. “What is it?”

“My flat is crawling with paparazzi.”

He sighed and ruffled his hair, tiredly. “Yeah, I thought that might happen.”

“I’m just not used to this kind of attention and I’m afraid to be alone.” She hesitated. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

He took a breath and buzzed her through. “Come on up.”

He opened the door for her moments later and checked the hallway after she entered to make sure no one was following her. The hall appeared empty, so he shut the door and padded into the living room, which Lucy was perusing with wide eyes.

“Your place is huge,” she commented, obviously impressed.

He moved past her, heading for his bedroom. “You can have the couch,” he said, curtly.

In other circumstances, he might have been more of a gentleman and offered his bed to his guest while he slept on the sofa, but his bed held something more important to him than Lucy’s sensibilities.

He closed the bedroom door behind him and looked at the rumpled sheets that he hadn’t bothered to straighten that morning. In his mind’s eye, he could see Rose resting on her side of the bed, lying on her side with her hand near her face. His heart clenched as he made his way over and gently stroked the pillow where her head should have been. He let himself fall heavily onto the mattress, burying his face into the soft cushion and inhaling deeply.

Rose’s scent wafted up to embrace him. This was the reason he wouldn’t let Lucy sleep here, wouldn’t allow another woman’s smell to taint the one remaining part of Rose that lingered in his flat. The clothes that she’d left behind had all been washed and smelled of soap, but the bed… It still held her essence. It helped to ground him in moments like these, when he desperately needed her. He rolled onto his side and dragged the sheets up to his face, squeezing his eyes shut. He missed her so much.

“Rose…” he murmured, blinking away the moisture that threatened to gather in his eyes.

The door creaked and he bolted upright to see Lucy standing in the doorway. “Doctor, I--” She stopped, seeing him in such a vulnerable state with his hair falling into his eyes, which were bright with unshed tears.

He huffed and swung his legs over the side of the bed to sit up properly, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t you knock?” he bit out, a bit more sharply than he intended, but she had him at a disadvantage.

Lucy shrank back slightly, clutching her pale green cardigan with one hand. “Do you miss her that much?” she asked at last in a soft voice.

“Yeah,” he said, glancing at her in mild surprise. He didn’t think it would be so obvious to someone he didn’t know that well. His eyes widened as she brought her hands to the small pearl buttons of her jumper and began to undo them. He surged to his feet. “Wait--”

“Love and sex are different for blokes, yeah?” she interrupted him, removing her top quickly, as though to get it over with fast and not change her mind. “I know you don’t love me. I don’t care about that.” She let the cardigan fall to the floor, revealing a white lace bra. The red scar that marred her flesh was painfully stark against her pale skin and she touched it gingerly, ducking her head. “I’m sorry if my scar repulses you.”

He held up his hands. “That’s not--”

She looked up, her eyes steely and determined. “But you said you’d take responsibility for me,” she went on as if he hadn’t spoken. She darted forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his t-shirt. “So, I’m asking you… Please… Show me that this ugly body can still give someone pleasure.”

* * *

Harry set Rose down on the hotel room’s bed as gently as he could and took a deep breath from the effort of carrying her all the way from the bar. It hadn’t been easy to convince the front desk clerk to reach into his jacket for his wallet to pay for the suite, but Rose had been dead-weight in his arms, completely passed out drunk. He hadn’t wanted to put her in a cab unconscious, he figured she could sleep it off here instead.

He drew his fingers lightly across her forehead, brushing strands of hair out of her face. She didn’t react. The girl really couldn’t hold her liquor. He leaned over her. “Rose?” he prodded to see if she would wake.

Her eyelids fluttered and he caught the glimmer of her eyes through her lashes as she moaned softly. He doubted she was really seeing him. He stroked her cheek, feather-light. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just get some rest.”

He moved to get up from the edge of the bed, but her hand grabbed the sleeve of his jacket.

“No, Doctor…” she slurred. “Don’t go…”

Harry blinked. Doctor? She was _really_ drunk. Before he could say anything to correct her, she launched herself up and threw her arms around his neck.

“Don’ wanna be alone ‘nymore,” she cried against his shirt. “Please, Doctor… Stay with me...”

He pulled away enough to look down at her face, flushed with alcohol and emotion. Cupping her cheek, his eyes flitted down to her slightly parted mouth and he ran his thumb underneath her full, pink lower lip. He couldn’t resist that kind of temptation.

Murmuring her name, Harry leaned down and kissed her, not caring that she thought he was his brother. She melted against him, opening at once. He tasted the sweet-tartness of the cocktails she’d consumed and groaned. With one hand, he reached for his tie and pulled the silk free from his neck. He tossed it on the floor, then brought his arm around Rose, leaning her back onto the bed as he continued to kiss her. She went willingly, flopping her arms to either side of her head and arching up into him.

He quickly unfastened his shirt and shoved it off, then kissed her again. _This is addicting,_ he thought, skimming his hands up from her hips, under her top, shoving it up to her collarbone. _No wonder the Doctor is crazy about her._ He sat back to admire her satin-clad breasts, her nipples pebbling into hard points. _Rose is such a beautiful woman._ He smirked, finding their attraction to the same woman amusing. _Can’t argue with blood, I suppose._

Reaching underneath her, he unclasped the garment and aided her in unthreading the straps from her arms. Her limbs appeared to be too heavy for her to move on her own, but she did her best to slide her legs apart as he climbed over her, making her skirt ride up high on her thighs.

As he bent his head toward her inviting chest, he promised to himself, _This time, it’ll be different between us, Rose._

“Mm, Doctor,” she breathed as Harry kissed the curve of one breast. “Don’t ever let me go…”

“I’ve got you, Rose…”

* * *

Lucy nuzzled the Doctor’s chest, smiling into his shirt. He hadn’t made a move to return her embrace, his hands were clenched into fists at his sides, but there were other tells that let her know he was enjoying her attention.

“I can hear your heart beating,” she said. “It’s going so fast.” Sliding a foot forward, she pressed her thigh between his legs, blatantly rubbing against his crotch. Her smile widened into a triumphant grin as she noted his growing erection. “You’re getting hard for me, I can feel it. So, how about we--”

“You’re right,” he said suddenly and she looked up to see him smirking down at her. “I’m turned on.” She blushed, but he caught her by the shoulder and pushed her away from him. “So what?” he spat. “I don’t just fuck any piece of ass I’m offered.”

Lucy’s blush turned full-on beet red and she bit her lips, looking down in embarrassment. The Doctor moved around her and bent down to pick up her cardigan, which he tossed at her. She flinched as she caught it.

“I’m in love with Rose,” he said, his voice hard. “I love her voice, her touch, everything about her. Don’t you get it? I don’t want _you.”_

He opened his mouth to tell her to leave, but was interrupted by his mobile on the night table ringing. Lucy shrugged into her top, avoiding his gaze, as he passed by her to answer the call.

“Hello?” His posture relaxed minutely. “Oh, hey, Amy. How’s Rose?” Lucy looked up in time to see the Doctor go rigid. “What do you mean, she never came back tonight?” he shouted.

* * *

Harry picked his way around the strewn articles of clothing on his way back to the bed, his cock sheathed in a condom, hastily recovered from his wallet. Rose moaned when he settled over her, not entering her yet, but she didn’t open her eyes. She was only becoming increasingly more lethargic as the alcohol in her system demanded she return to sleep.

Propping himself up on his elbows, he braced her face in both hands, sliding his fingers back into her hair, marveling at the glow that seemed to emanate from her. Even half passed out, she was gorgeous. He could only guess at how incredible it would be if she were fully aware of what was going on. Rose had been tempting as the blushing virgin he’d first laid eyes on, but now…

“A woman becomes more beautiful each time she shares herself with a man,” he murmured. His eyes traveled down the length of her neck, across her collarbone, taking in the fullness of each breast and their perfect pink tips, then back to her face. She was so much more lovely now than the first time he’d met her, it was maddening to him. “How many times has he tasted you?” His hold on her head tightened a bare fraction as he clenched his teeth. “How many?”

Rose’s eyes opened a tiny bit, their golden depths still unfocused as she looked up at him. Clumsily, she wrapped her arms around Harry’s neck and drew him down to her. “I love you, Doctor,” she mumbled. “Don’t leave me for Lucy, promise you’ll stay…”

Harry tucked his face into the curve of Rose’s shoulder and closed his eyes. His brother was a lucky man.

A ringtone version of Paradox’s _Song to a Wolf_ made him lift his head. The sound was coming from Rose’s purse, which he’d dropped on the floor earlier. He huffed, knowing it had only been a matter of time. He glanced down at Rose, but she was already slumped back on the pillows, probably moments away from sleep. Shaking his head, Harry got out of the bed and went to answer her mobile.

“Hello?”

_“Harry?!”_

He smirked at the sound of the Doctor’s voice. “Wow. All it took was ‘hello’? I’m flattered.”

“Why are you answering Rose’s mobile? _Where is she?”_

He turned and looked at the nude blonde. She’d rolled onto her side, so he went and pulled the blanket over her. “She _really_ can’t handle her liquor. She’s in bed right now. Come get her, if you want. We’re at the Motif.”

He ended the call and sighed as he tugged the condom from his flagging erection. After tossing it in a waste basket and putting the mobile back into Rose’s purse, he set about getting his suit back on. He knew it would probably only be a few minutes before the Doctor showed up to get his Sleeping Beauty.

* * *

The moment Harry opened the hotel room door, the Doctor grabbed the other man by the front of his suit and slammed him against the wall, letting the door close on its own behind him.

“What are you doing back in England?” the Doctor growled.

Harry didn’t even flinch, just smirked in amusement over his brother’s jealousy. “Relax. I didn’t fuck her.”

“You--!”

“I _could_ have,” Harry added, to let the Doctor know the position Rose had been in. “But I didn’t. She was _very_ drunk and thought I was you. I didn’t want _you_ getting the credit for _my_ work.”

The Doctor shoved Harry aside and hurried into the bedroom with long strides. Placing a knee on the mattress, he leaned over Rose, who was naked under the sheets, but appeared unharmed. He touched her head, sifting her yellow hair through his fingers. She smiled and murmured in her sleep, “Mm… Doctor…”

“This doesn’t mean I’ve given up on Rose, mind you,” said Harry, behind him. The Doctor looked over his shoulder to see his brother leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. “My plan is to win her heart, not borrow her body.”

The Doctor’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve fallen for Rose,” he said. “In my own way.”

Harry’s expression was open, but neutral. If he meant what he said or if he was just fucking with him, the Doctor couldn’t tell.

Apparently, it was all the explanation he cared to give, because Harry turned away with a careless wave over his shoulder. “Room’s paid for. See you around, brother.”

The sound of the outside door slamming shut must have awakened Rose, because she inhaled sharply. The Doctor looked back down at her to see her eyelids fluttering open. She looked at him immediately and sat up, bringing her arms around him to pull him into a sitting position next to her.

“Doctor,” she sighed as he wrapped her in his embrace. “Promise you won’t leave me! Please, Doctor?”

He kissed her temple. “Don’t worry, Rose. I promise.”

* * *

Lucy trudged into the flat that Masterworks Productions had set her up with and threw her bag with her keys onto the table next to the door. She didn’t bother turning on the overhead light as she made her way into the kitchen to turn on the electric kettle. She felt as though she’d been put through a wringer. What a failure this night had been.

She jumped as the kitchen light suddenly snapped on. “So,” came a voice from behind her and she whirled around to see Harry Saxon standing there in the doorway. Had he been waiting in the dark for her to come home? For how long? It felt bizarre, seeing him in her tiny kitchen in his expensive suit.

“How was it?” he asked. “Did the Doctor…?”

“No,” she said, turning away to retrieve a teabag and a mug from a cabinet, but also to hide her disappointed face from her boss. “Wouldn’t even consider it.” Her grip on the counter tightened as she mumbled, “I’m just some piece of ass, apparently.”

She gasped as he grabbed her upper arm and swung her around to face him. He wrapped an arm around her back and cradled her head with his other hand, bringing his mouth to the side of her neck. She cried out and struggled when she felt him bite down on her skin and suck - hard.

“What are you doing?” she exclaimed, finally managing to shove him away from her, her face going red. It wasn’t that she didn’t find him attractive, but this was completely out of the blue.

“Making it look like you slept with the Doctor,” he told her as if it should be obvious. He tilted his chin at her neck. “Show _that_ to Rose Tyler.”

She touched the place that was still moist from his saliva. She could guess what he’d done. “A hickey?”

He nodded. “That scar on your chest ties you to him, and she knows it. It’s been good for your career, too. I told you I’d make you famous, didn’t I?”

Lucy shivered as a chill swept over her. “You… you didn’t set this up, did you? The attack…?”

He shrugged, his amber eyes cold and hard. “What if I did?”

She shook as she took a step closer, not from fear, but from rage. “How could you do that?” she demanded, her blue eyes snapping with fire. “How could you _use_ me like that? I’m _scarred_ because of you!”

Harry called her bluff and matched her posture, striding forward and making her retreat. He caged her in, trapping her with a hand on the counter on either side of her, leaning down and pushing his face into hers. He made her cower as he said in a low, insidious voice, “To make it in this business, you have to make sacrifices. You’ve got the fame you wanted. You should be _thanking_ me for doing what it takes.”

“I don’t _want_ your kind of help,” she whispered, trying to be brave.

He snickered. “Is that so? You’ll ‘handle’ it on your own? Come to me when you change your mind.”

He turned then and left her slumped against the counter, slamming the door on his way out. Lucy gulped and took in a deep breath. Her kettle pinged, signaling her water was ready, and even that small noise made her flinch.

She brought a shaking hand to her neck, covering the mark Harry had left. She didn’t _want_ to win the Doctor over Rose with that kind of subterfuge, but she was beginning to think there wouldn’t be any other way.

She slid her hand down to her chest, covering the area where her scar rested. It was the one thing that connected the Doctor to her. Was it enough?

* * *

Rose awakened to a throbbing headache the next morning, and she groaned, pulling the covers over her head to shut out the light. Every ray of sunshine coming through the window blinds was like a tiny pitchfork to her brain. Something nagged at her, though. It took a moment for her to realize it was the bed. She was in bed and couldn’t remember going to sleep last night. Moreover, it was _their_ bed, the bed she shared with the Doctor, not the guest bed at Rory and Amy’s place.

Cautiously, she pulled the blanket from her head in order to look around and confirm she was indeed back at the Flat, but was unable to keep her eyes open for more than a second. She laid back and rubbed her eyes, then her forehead. The smudgy remnants of yesterday’s makeup came away on her fingertips. She had to look awful, and she felt even worse. Just what had she been _doing_ last night…

“Think you maybe had one too many?”

She squinted one eye open to see the Doctor standing at the door in jeans and a t-shirt, a steaming mug in one hand, the other propped on his hip. The blood drained from her face as the reason for her headache surfaced. She was hungover because she’d gone for drinks with Harry Saxon… but she couldn’t remember _anything_ after that!

The Doctor came forward and sat on the edge of the bed, placing the mug of tea on the night stand. “Want to tell me about it?” he asked as she sat up.

Rose looked carefully at the Doctor’s face. His eyebrows were slightly drawn down and she knew he wasn’t happy because his dimple was ticking in his jaw. She twisted her fingers into the night shirt she was wearing and avoided his gaze. “Well, I, um… I went for drinks… with some friends and…”

“Really?” he cut in. “You and my brother are friends now?”

She nearly swallowed her tongue. He knew! “I-- I’m sorry--” she stuttered, but the Doctor wouldn’t have it.

He leaned in, grasping the headboard behind her with one hand. “I hate lying, Rose,” he said, biting out the words.

Tears welled in her eyes at the thought of him hating her. She knew he was upset, but what else could she do except apologize? “I’m sorry,” she said again in a tiny voice.

“Stop crying!” he said and she shut her eyes against his angry expression. He had every right to be pissed, she knew how much he worried about her, and she had no idea how he’d found her last night.

“But… I…” What else could she say? She wished last night had never happened? Wishing wouldn’t make it come true. In the end, all she could do was blurt out another apology.

“Damn it, Rose!” He grasped her by the arms and rolled her underneath him, her legs hanging off the edge of the bed, tangling them in the sheet that had been draped over her. “What do I have to do to make you understand? I am _never_ going to leave you!”

She blinked her eyes open to see him hovering over her, inches away, his expression fierce.

“Nothing could ever make me hate you,” he said, taking her hands and holding them above her head. “You want me to see how sorry you are? Prove it.”

She relaxed into him as he pressed her down, even though his kiss was rough, feral, his teeth biting at her lip. She knew he’d never hurt her, so she smiled against his mouth as he straddled her waist, holding both of her wrists in one hand, the other working to open the button of his jeans.

He didn’t hate her. It was with relief that she offered herself up to him, wanting to show with her whole being how much she regretted going with Harry. She knew she’d fall apart if the Doctor hated her. Well, she’d survive, would eventually move on, but her heart would carry the scar forever. It wasn’t something she ever wanted to experience.

She looked up at him as her lips closed around his cock. Seeing the beautiful expression on his face as it crumpled in emotion and hearing the gorgeous sounds he made caused her heart to surge with love. _She_ did that to him. For all that he had her in such a submissive pose, holding her down while his tall, lanky body loomed over her, thrusting himself into her mouth, she knew she held his heart in her hands. She had such _power_ over him. It was a heady thought.

If this was what atonement felt like… then Rose was happy to be penitent.


	17. Scheme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and the Doctor finally get back together, but there are machinations behind the scenes to split them up once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW!

The second single premiered on a live music show to record viewing numbers. After the ballad of _Moonflower_ , this song featured a similar theme but a grittier sound, to match the animalistic lyrics. Rose had titled it, _Phases of the Moon_.

Dressed in his leather trousers and a tight shirt with a deep v-neck that revealed a good amount of his chest hair, the Doctor swiveled his slim hips in front of the cameras and live audience, crooning into the microphone, “Down on my knees, I caught your scent. You said, baby, please, and I knew what you meant. There’s no way I’ll give you peace tonight. Scratches down my back, I live for the sting. Your facade cracks and you can’t hide a thing. You’re my bitch in heat, craving a fight.”

His gaze was intense, Rose could see it all the way at the back of the studio. He was really on. His voice and his movements were pure knickers-evaporating, ovary-destroying seduction. Rubbing her thighs together in helpless arousal, she bit her lip and looked down at the floor. As much as she loved to watch him perform, it was driving her crazy, since they couldn’t be close to each other at the moment.

The Doctor smiled as if knowing exactly what he was doing to the audience, to her, and stretched out his arm to the main camera. “You thrash and you bite, but I won’t let you come, you’ll reach for new heights and beg to succumb. The thing that’s inside you is too much to cage, the thrust of your hips makes me shiver with rage. I need more than one night to make you dance to my tune, to learn all your faces, that change with the phases of the moon.”

His smoulder carried over into the interview, as the presenter asked him to tell her about the sexiness of the new number. He ruffled his hair and sighed. “Well, I haven’t been able to see my girlfriend much lately, so I’m pretty much living in a state of hard-core sexual frustration. I guess that comes across on-stage.”

Rose’s jaw dropped, along with the interviewer’s. She couldn’t believe he would say something like that! On _telly!_ For everyone to see!

The poor presenter laughed nervously, trying not to show how his remark affected her. “Is that so?” she asked with a tremulous smile. “You have a reputation as quite the ladies’ man. It’s a little difficult to think of you as… uh… I guess ‘monogamous’ is the word I’m looking for?”

The Doctor smirked and leaned his elbow on the sofa’s arm. “Yeah, well, there are a lot of misconceptions about me.” He looked at the nearest camera. “I get off on two things only: performing for my fans, and performing _on_ my girl.”

The interviewer blushed. From the heat Rose felt, she was sure she had to be bright red, too. “Okay, well, now we know!” the girl said to the camera, obviously flustered by the Doctor’s candor. “Paradox never disappoints, do they? Can’t wait to have them on the show again…”

Rose heard the press nearby murmuring over the Doctor’s performance as the show welcomed their next guest. Curious, she edged closer, wanting to know what they were writing in their little notebooks.

“So, I guess the Doctor’s not seeing that Lucy girl,” said one reporter.

“Do you think we could get away with calling it unrequited love on her part?” asked another.

The first man shrugged and made a notation with his pencil. “It’s really too bad. We’d have a story if it was _him_ with the crush.”

Rose pursed her lips and moved away. The press was losing interest in Lucy and the Doctor. She realized then that his embarrassing revelation onscreen was his way of telling the public that Lucy didn’t mean anything. She couldn’t help but feel relieved.

* * *

“The press should leave you alone now,” the Doctor spoke quietly into his mobile phone. He stood in a corner of the backstage area, one finger plugging his opposite ear. “So, I’ve fulfilled my obligation to you.” He paused, allowing his guilt one final stab before letting it go. “Sorry you’re stuck with the scar. Maybe plastic surgery could help.”

“No! It’s not over!” said Lucy over the line. “You can’t just walk away from this. What if the press decides to--”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” he asked. He shook his head, almost amused by her last ditch effort. “No one ever really believed we were together. I’m out of your league.” Noticing Van Statten on his way over to him, he ended the call. He’d said all he had to say to her.

“Pretty racy for an interview,” the manager commented, but there was no censure in his tone as he opened a large manila envelope he was carrying.

The Doctor shrugged. “I just told the lady the truth.”

Van Statten smirked and pulled a small stack of papers out of the envelope. “We got the report on the man who attacked you.” He handed the paperwork over, on top was a candid photo of the bald man who’d slashed Lucy. “Early twenties, works at a pub, has a live-in girlfriend two years younger than him.” He paused as the Doctor flipped to the next page, his eyes moving rapidly as he read. “He appears to have come into a large amount of money recently and there’s no evidence that he was ever dumped by a fanatical fan of yours.”

“Hmm,” said the Doctor with a slight nod. “I thought so.”

“You knew?” asked Van Statten, his thick eyebrows climbing toward his receded hairline.

“I suspected,” said the Doctor, taking the envelope to stuff the papers back inside. “The guy was supposedly after me, but when Lucy stepped in, he didn’t hesitate to cut her instead. It was like he expected it.” He tapped the envelope. “This just proves that somebody hired him. Somebody who knew where Lucy would be and that she would try to protect me. It has to be either Lucy herself - unlikely - or…” His mouth tightened. “My brother.”

“Do you want me to keep digging?” the manager asked, taking the proffered envelope back.

“No,” said the Doctor. “But do send a copy of your report to Masterworks Productions. Let Harry mull over what would happen to his empire if this went public.” A chilling smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “If they think they can play me, they’re very much mistaken.”

“Huh.” Van Statten shook his head. “You’re one cool customer. Even I thought that singer had you fooled. You’ve been onto her from the start. Biding your time.”

The Doctor winked at him. “Keep your enemies closer. You should know me by now, Henry. No one fucks with me.” He moved to step around the manager, then leaned back. “Don’t go there.”

Van Statten lifted his hands. “Wasn’t about to. You _did_ leave it wide open, though.”

The Doctor frowned and, at his warning glare, Van Statten wisely backed off.

* * *

Rose and the Doctor celebrated her first real night back at the Flat by cooking dinner together. Standing side by side at the stove, they laughed and joked at each other’s skill, or lack thereof. It felt wonderful to be able to share little touches and kisses whenever they liked. As exciting as life with the Doctor generally was, it was these private moments that Rose loved the best.

They sat down at the table once the food was ready, but Rose’s face fell when she saw the Doctor uncorking a wine he’d picked to go with the meal. “I… don’t think I should drink,” she said, still uneasy about the last time she’d gotten drunk.

He lifted an eyebrow at her. “What, you’ll drink with other blokes, but not me?” he asked, cheekily.

Though she knew he was teasing, color rose in her cheeks. “That’s not it,” she mumbled, looking down at the table.

With a smirk, the Doctor poured some wine into a glass and took a sip. Rose startled when he came around the table and tilted her face up for a kiss. Her eyes fluttered shut as his mouth opened and the warm flavor of the wine trickled from him to her.

“What do you think?” he asked when he pulled away. He used his thumb to brush away a drop of wine that ran down her chin. “Some connoisseurs think this wine has the texture of velvet.”

She gave him a troubled smile. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to do here, Doctor,” she said, squirming a little in her chair. “I’m just… I guess I’m afraid of losing control of myself again.”

“Don’t be,” he said, reaching behind her head to tug her hair out of its ponytail. “I didn’t choose this wine to complement our dinner.” He leaned down again, sliding kisses along her jaw, making her shiver as he whispered in her ear, “I chose it to bring out the flavors of _you.”_

He knelt in front of her, sliding the chair around so she faced him. He nibbled her neck, his fingers deftly unbuttoning the light blue shirt she wore. It was one of his, and it always turned him on to see her wearing his clothes.

“Here?” she asked, her voice breathless. “What about dinner?”

“Mm,” he hummed against her collarbone. “I want dessert instead.”

He shoved the edges of the shirt open and showed his enthusiasm for her lack of wearing a bra by taking each nipple into his mouth and growling against her skin. She helpfully lifted up her bottom as he unbuttoned her jeans and tugged them off, taking her underwear along, too. His hands slid up her thighs, parting them wide to allow room for his torso, moving around to cup her pert arse. As he kissed his way down her stomach, he pulled her closer, urging her toward the edge of the chair, until she was perched on the very end, her body arched and on display.

His hungry eyes traveled over her, black with want. He reached over to the table where he’d set his glass of wine and grabbed it, tilting it over Rose’s abdomen with a naughty grin. Her eyes widened.

“But the floor--!”

“It’s wood, it won’t stain. I’ll clean it later.”

The liquid was room-temperature, but Rose still gasped when he trickled it over her. Just a splash, really, but it felt sinful, dripping through her neatly trimmed curls, mingling with the moisture gathering in her folds.

The Doctor set the glass back on the table, then bent his head, teasing her navel with his tongue, then swiping it lower. He followed the trails the crimson liquid had made on her pale skin, drew back once to give Rose a heated look, then gave one long draw of his tongue from bottom to top. He hummed against her clit as if it was the most delicious thing he’d ever sampled, his eyes fluttering shut.

Rose’s stomach clenched from the intense pleasure, but she couldn’t curve inward very much from her current position, stretched out over the chair with her shoulders against the seatback. She had no choice but to let him have his way with her, licking up every drop of the velvet-like wine, mixed with her own flavor. She watched him, the dark crescents of his eyelashes against his freckled cheeks were a strange element of beauty when paired with the blatant eroticism of his actions.

It didn’t take him long to make her come with his talented tongue, shaking and shrieking his name, her hands clutched in his soft hair. But it wasn’t enough, as her inner walls spasmed around nothingness. She needed him now, filling her.

She grabbed him up with a fistful of hair, her other hand gripping the collar of his shirt. She kissed the smug look right off his face while standing up from the chair and taking him with her. Sensing her urgency, he was happy to let her take the lead, practically clawing at his trousers to get them and his pants pulled down.

She didn’t even wait for him to get them off before she pushed him down into the chair she’d vacated. She straddled his lap and sank down onto him, moaning in tandem. Holding her arse again, he helped her to rise and fall, setting a steady pace as she chased another high, wanting to take him with her this time.

Rose had missed this. Not just the sex, but physically experiencing the Doctor’s strength as he made love with her. She didn’t just _touch_ him, she _admired_ him with her hands, finding new appreciation for his sculpture-like body every time. And the way he touched her in return… Every brush of skin on skin went right through her.

Grabbing her legs, he changed the angle, then held onto her, standing up with Rose in his arms. Still joined together, he walked them the few feet to the sofa and laid her down, no longer content with keeping things slow. His fringe fell over his forehead, darkly shining with sweat, his mouth hanging open as he panted, making his wet lower lip look like a tempting treat.

He slammed into her and she cried out passionately, gripping his shoulders as he held onto her hips. She could feel the leashed violence in his hands, his fingers digging into her skin. She knew it would be so easy for him to break her. That’s what it felt like, each time he brought her to orgasm, like breaking apart into millions of pieces, her rational mind slipping away, hazily coming back little by little. And then she would open her eyes…

And his _face_. Lying beside her. Flushed, moist skin, parted lips, mussed hair… Every feature gone slack, perfectly sated, satisfied… beautiful. How was it that she could do this to such a man?

They laid on the sofa for a while, cuddling in post-coital bliss, until the Doctor drifted off. Or, at least, she thought so, but when she began to get up, he grabbed her by the arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked. His sleepy grin was still sexy as hell.

“I wanted to get the dishes before I fell asleep. And the wine on the floor--”

He got to his feet, but pulled her in the direction of the bedroom instead. “We’ll take care of it in the morning.” He drew her in close, pressing kisses along her shoulder, and she was stunned to feel him getting hard again against her abdomen. “More.”

“So soon?”

“All night. Hope you didn’t plan on sleeping.”

She couldn’t help but smile as she carded her fingers through his damp hair, brushing it back from his face. “You’re going to break me.”

He lifted his head and smirked. “Sounds like a challenge.” Stooping slightly, he put an arm behind her legs and scooped her up. “Why don’t we find out how many times I can make you come before we see the sun?”

She nuzzled his neck. “Mm. That’s nice. Like a line of music. Remind me of it later.”

“Work, work, work.”

* * *

Harry set down the paperwork he’d been looking over to give his unexpected guest his full attention. “Well, I thought you’d be back, but I’ll admit I didn’t think it would be so soon.” He leaned back in his posh leather desk chair and steepled his hands. “Need my help after all, do you?”

Lucy ducked her head, her cheeks pink, and rubbed her arms as though cold. “You were right. Tell me what I have to do to make the Doctor love me.”

He looked her up and down. “Well, for starters, lock the door and take off your clothes.”

Her head snapped up. “What? What kind of--”

He was on his feet in a moment. “Shut your mouth,” he snapped and she gasped into startled silence. He moved slowly around his desk like a jungle cat stalking its prey. “You want me to make you into a woman worthy of the Doctor? I will. But you have to do everything I say. I’ll teach you how to tease him and win his heart.” He smiled. “Then _I’ll_ step in to ease Rose’s wounds.”

She bit her lip. “You make it sound… so easy.”

“It will be. Rose is the Doctor’s greatest weakness.”

Lucy hesitated for another moment, then reached behind her and locked Harry’s office door. Her eyes were hard and determined when she looked up at him. “Sacrifices, you said. Fine. Let’s get started.”

* * *

Rose had no idea how the Doctor managed to get up before her and go to rehearsal. As it was, she was still exhausted hours later when she dragged herself down to the studio. Romana met her in the lobby with an updated security clearance card. The stylish producer lifted her perfectly arched eyebrows at the younger woman.

“Whoa. What happened to you?” she asked. “Rough night?”

“How should I put this,” Rose mumbled, feeling her face heat up.

“Ohhh,” said Romana, knowingly. “First night back at the Doctor’s, yeah? No wonder he’s been in such a good mood.” She giggled. “You’ll find the band upstairs. Start thinking about new lyrics, alright?”

Rose smiled, thinking of the line the Doctor had given her last night. “Will do.”

A blonde woman brushed past Rose, jostling her into Romana. Rose’s jaw dropped when the woman swung around, her eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“Oh. Rose. I didn’t see you there. You’re so easily overlooked.”

The woman was Lucy, but her appearance was a far cry from her usual, off-stage, buttoned-up look. Her long hair was artfully curled and styled, falling in soft waves to her waist. Dark red lipstick drew the eye to her lush mouth. The tight black dress she wore emphasized her slender body and the sheer black stockings coupled with killer heels made her legs look like they went on for days. She was stunning.

“You… look so different,” said Rose, at a loss for what to say to her.

Lucy smiled. “This is the new me. The Doctor wasn’t interested in the old me, so I’ve dedicated myself to becoming the type of woman he appreciates.” She canted one hip out and leaned toward Rose. “I have to warn you, I’m one hell of a quick study. I suppose I should tell you I’ve begun writing my own lyrics as well.” Her blue eyes narrowed. “How secure are you in your relationship? Do you rely on some crazy bedroom technique?”

Rose blushed. The Doctor never had any complaints in that department, but she wondered now if maybe it was all him, if he was just carrying her along on the tide of pleasure. She wasn’t exactly experienced, Lucy probably knew way more than she did about pleasing a man.

Lucy leaned back and crossed her arms, emphasizing her bosom. Rose had to do a double take when she realized the low cut of her neckline wasn’t showing off her scar at all. Maybe she’d had plastic surgery or it was some amazing movie-grade makeup, but at any rate, her one flaw was gone.

“Hmm. Well, I hope so,” Lucy said. “I don’t want this to be _too_ easy. After all, I already have the advantage. He knows your body inside and out.” She flipped her hair over one shoulder. “I'm new and exciting.”

As Lucy turned and continued in the direction she’d been headed, Romana scoffed, a line forming between her brows as she frowned. “What a bitch,” she remarked to Rose.

Rose let Romana lead her like a blind woman toward the studio, her head in a jumble. Rose’s heart panged. It felt like a knife, right between her ribs. She’d seen the old gossip papers. Lucy was exactly like the type of woman the Doctor used to date before he’d met Rose. If she tried to seduce him, would he--?

She shook her head. No, he wouldn’t.

_But… the only thing I really do for the Doctor is write lyrics,_ she thought. _If Lucy’s doing that, too… I won’t have anything unique to offer. What if she’s better than me? At everything? Why does the Doctor stay with me anyway? What is it he likes about me?_

“Rose? Rose? Earth to Rose!”

She gasped and looked up to find the Doctor standing right in front of her, a concerned look on his face. She glanced around. Romana had left her in the band’s waiting area. Rose didn’t even know how long the Doctor had been trying to get her attention and she flushed in embarrassment.

“Where were you? On another planet?” He grinned. “You look tired. Maybe you’re coming down with something.” He leaned his forehead against hers under the pretense of checking her temperature, but since he knew _exactly_ why she looked tired, Rose knew he was being cheeky and angling for a kiss.

She was too troubled to play into it, however. Taking a step back, she fiddled with the hem of her shirt and asked, “Um, Doctor?”

His brow furrowed slightly. “Yeah?”

“What is it you like best about me?”

He snickered and turned toward the water cooler. “That’s something you should ask in bed.”

“I’m serious!”

He smiled as he took his time in filling a plastic cup with water. “Alright,” he said, turning back around. “What is it you like best about _me?”_

Her eyebrows went sky high. “What? Me?”

“It’s a fair question,” he said, taking a sip of water.

She wanted to smack him for being so casual about this, standing there with one leg crossed in front of the other, a hand on his hip, drinking his water like he’d just asked her the weather. But he just waited expectantly, clearly not about to let her get away with an answer unless she provided one first.

“Um…” What _did_ she like best? Well, that he was fierce, but could also be kind, and also strong, oh, but his sexiness, too, and… and… She scrunched her face in frustration. There were too many good qualities to choose from!

He smiled around a little chuckle, then crunched his empty cup and tossed it into the nearby trash can. He walked over to her and kissed her forehead. “There,” he said. “Now you have my answer.”

She blinked as he turned to go back to the studio. His answer? But she couldn’t choose…

It wasn’t until he looked back at the doorway and winked at her that she got it. Honestly, he made her feel like such a dummy sometimes. She supposed it wasn’t his fault that he could distract her so well. Not that she’d let him get away with it.

* * *

Harry bent Lucy backward over the table in the secluded meeting room, sucking on the skin just below her pulse point until it turned a deep purple. She moaned, unable to help how much she was enjoying it, and arched her back toward him. There were many such marks on her upper body now, over the swell of her breasts, her collarbone, her shoulders, in various reds and purples.

He lifted his head and looked down at his handiwork, appreciatively. His heavy breath stirred the hair at her temples and it stroked her ego to know that he wasn’t unaffected by her.

After a final bite to her lower lip, he nodded and said, “Alright. I had this television studio book the Doctor without the rest of the band on purpose. Rose should be downstairs as well. Go and tear them apart with that beautiful body of yours.”

He patted her arse as she left the room to do as he said. Straightening his jacket and tie, Harry also left the room to seek out his own quarry. He smirked when he saw Rose standing at the back of the telly studio. The game was on.

He schooled his features and adopted a neutral stance with his hands behind his back. “Rose?”

She turned her head, her eyes widening as she saw who it was.

He offered a mild smile. “The Doctor was asking for you. He’s in his dressing room.”

Her brow furrowed slightly. “Really? He told me to wait out here.” At his shrug, she started back toward the dressing area. “Okay… Thanks.”

* * *

Lucy went directly down to the Doctor’s dressing room and knocked on the door. She wasted no time in entering when he bid her come in and was pleased to see he was alone.

“Lucy?” he asked, looking her up and down in surprise.

She closed the door and came towards him, gripping the neckline of her dress in both hands. Harry had picked this dress specifically, not just for its sexy appearance, but for its rubbish fabric. The thin material ripped all the way down to her waist with only a little effort on her part.

“What are you _doing?”_ he exclaimed, darting forward to grab her wrists before she could do her clothing further damage.

Now was the moment. Lucy took a deep breath into her singer’s lungs and screamed with all her might. “AHHHHH! HELP ME! SOMEBODY HELP!”

The door banged open as if on cue. “Doctor!” Rose called in obvious alarm at the shouting. She stopped dead in her tracks, her heart skidding to a stop, as she saw Lucy with her clothing torn, bite marks all over her, and the Doctor holding her in a violent manner. “What--” Nothing else would come out. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“Rose--” he began, but Lucy darted in front of him.

“No, it’s my fault!” she cried, tugging her clothing back into place as much as she could. “I seduced him! I didn’t know it would be like this. Please don’t blame the Doctor, Rose, please!”

“Rose, don’t--” But Rose was already running down the hallway. The Doctor moved to push Lucy out of his way, calling desperately “Rose, wait!”

Lucy wrapped her arms around his waist and dug in her heels when he would have run after his girlfriend. “Don’t go!” she said, holding onto him tightly. “Don’t you see? She doesn’t trust you! I do!”

He went absolutely still. “Let go,” he said, his voice so low, she almost didn’t hear what he said over her own passionate plea.

“What?” She looked up to see his dark eyes filled with such cold hate, a shiver went through her.

“I said get your fucking hands off me, right fucking now,” he said. “This is your only warning.”

Beginning to shake, Lucy backed away from him until her rear hit the makeup counter behind her. The Doctor left the room in a flash, allowing her to catch her breath.

She was in love with that man… or the man she thought he was… but he could be fucking terrifying when he wanted to be. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her racing heartbeat. Just how much did she know about him, really?


	18. Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry drops a bomb, Rose and the Doctor fight, and a proposal is made.

The Doctor used his long legs to their best advantage in catching up to Rose. “Stop!” he called after her rapidly departing form. “Rose, wait!” She gave no indication that she heard him or had any intention of slowing down as she made for the nearest exit out of the building. Stretching out his arm, he grabbed her by the elbow and swung her around to face him, bringing them both to an abrupt halt. “Damn it, I said, _wait!”_

She flinched at his tone, causing the tears welling in her eyes to spill over her cheeks. Despite how it hurt his heart to see her cry, a part of him chafed at the sight, that she would be so easily fooled.

“Oh, come on, Rose!” he said, giving his irritation voice. “Don’t tell me you actually bought that?”

“Well, what am I supposed to think?” she demanded, her own anger burning through her hurt. “Why were her clothes all ripped?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Honestly, how many times are we--”

“How many chances are you going to give him, Rose?” came a voice from behind them. They turned to see Harry standing in the hallway a few feet away, his hands in his pockets.

“You,” the Doctor growled. “I should have known.”

Harry smirked. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” He shifted his gaze to Rose. “There’s something you should know--”

In the space of a blink, the Doctor had his brother pushed up against the wall, both hands fisted in Harry’s shirt. But before the Doctor could inflict any bodily harm, Harry played his card.

Looking right into his brother’s eyes, Harry said, “John Noble was a whore.”

The Doctor froze. Harry edged away from him and his suit fell from his brother’s numb grip. The Doctor let him go, he couldn’t turn around, couldn’t look at her, couldn’t bear to see what was in her eyes. He stared at the wall in front of him, unseeing.

Of course, Harry wouldn’t let it rest. “A prossie, a gigolo, a male escort. Dress it up however you like, it all means the same thing. He performed in private clubs before teaming up with Donna. The wealthy clientele admired him, a handsome, and single, young singer. Women… Men… It didn’t matter. They all paid for his… services.” He smoothed his rumple jacket and smiled smugly. “He sold his body to whomever could pay for it.”

“You’re lying,” said Rose. She looked at the Doctor, who still hadn’t moved, and went to him, grabbing his arm. “He’s lying, isn’t he?” she asked, tugging at him, but he wouldn’t turn. She moved around to his front, looking up at his face, desperately seeking answers. “Tell me he’s lying!”

The Doctor’s features were hard, the dimple in his jaw a deep slash. His dark eyes were dull, with not even the spark of anger that had been there before. “It was a long time ago,” he said in a low voice, at last.

Hearing him confirm it made Rose’s stomach clench into a tight knot. She didn’t know what to feel. The Doctor had been a prostitute? Intellectually, she knew there were sex workers all over the world, of course, but it was more of a distant fact, not something she had to think about in her own day-to-day life. Or, it _had_ been. Did it change the way she saw him?

When her hand fell from his sleeve, a flash of life returned to him and he glared at Harry. “And anyway, that fact doesn’t mean I would attack Lucy!” He looked back at her, his expression softening. “Rose, please, you have to believe me…”

She wanted to, but if he’d hidden this part of his past from her… What else had he not told her? She remembered the conversation about his formative years, how he’d said he didn’t like thinking about that time in his life. No wonder!

His mouth tightened and his hands clenched into fists when she still didn’t answer him. “If you can’t trust me, Rose--” He cut himself off and turned away, as if unable to look at her. “You know what? Forget it. You don’t have to!”

The sight of his retreating back unhinged her tongue. “Doctor, wait!” she called, but he kept going, and she didn’t have the will to run after him.

Maybe this was for the best. Some time apart. To consider if this new knowledge was something she could look past. But the thought of being without him, even for a little while to gain perspective, tore at her heart.

_How could this happen?_ she wondered, her eyes misting once again. _All I did was love him. I didn’t want to hurt him, I just-- What do I do now?_

As she turned and left the studio in a hurry, she didn’t see Harry’s wicked smile.

* * *

Jack found her on the roof of their Flat. She didn’t ask why he’d come, she could only assume the Doctor had unleashed his temper on the band and they knew it always had something to do with her. He stood next to her at the rail and leaned his forearms against it, matching her posture. “Wanna talk about it?” he asked, without preamble.

Rose explained what had happened at the studio and Jack listened without comment until she finished. He ducked his head for a moment with a slight sigh and when he lifted it again, his violet-blue eyes were far away.

“John was out of control when I first met him,” he said. “Donna had had enough of their mother’s drinking and rage fits by then, so she’d gone to live with their grandfather, but John had stayed with his mum, trying to shoulder all of her debt by himself.” He made a small scoffing noise through his nose. “He was a cocky little shit, too, thought he knew what life was all about.” He paused, frowning. “I know that what he did sounds bad, but… it was a way for him to survive. You have to understand, he considered his mother’s behavior a betrayal. So, he learned to use women.” He shook his head. “I didn’t think he’d ever learn to really love.”

Rose thought back to the old video she’d watched with Matt, seeing the Doctor at around sixteen, a skinny teenager with too-long hair, behind a glossy black piano. The Doctor had said that River Song had been his first, so that meant he was only a little younger than in that video when he’d begun selling his body. She hadn’t been his first lover, she was his first _client_. Despite the poor quality of the video, she remembered thinking that he looked dead behind the eyes. Alive, but not living.

Jack turned, leaning on one elbow in order to face Rose. “The thing is, Rose, people change. If there’s one thing the Doctor knows well, it’s pain. And love it or hate it, his past made him who he is today. He’s come a long way, but…” He sucked in a breath through his teeth and shook his head. “If he lost you, I don’t know what he’d do. I don’t think he’d risk his heart again.” He studied her face. “Do you get it now, Rose? To him, you are everything.”

She did get it. This was why her lack of trust had hurt the Doctor so much. He’d given his battered heart over into her keeping, and she’d been focused on herself instead of how he felt. She hadn’t seen it, because to her, _she_ was the one who had to worry over losing _him_ , not the other way around. But he _did_ worry. To him, he was risking more heartbreak by allowing himself to love her. When she failed to trust him, she was betraying him just as surely as the other women in his life.

She leaned against Jack’s shoulder and he wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her back. She knew that the Doctor’s past had nothing to do with Lucy, but what about Rose’s heart? What was _she_ being asked to risk?

She closed her eyes, not wanting to cry again. She felt pathetic enough as it was.

* * *

Rose moped around the Flat after Jack left, too despondent to work on lyrics and not feeling hungry for dinner, she passed time making interminable cups of tea and flipping through channels on the telly while she waited for the Doctor to come home. She sighed when she looked at the clock for about the millionth time and saw it was close to midnight. She dearly wanted to apologize and was afraid she’d nod off before she had the chance. She thought back to their last moments, when he’d shouted at her. She wished he could see that this was difficult for her as well.

A clatter at the door startled her and she clicked off the telly and hurried over, only to have it swing open as she got there. Jack and Rory had the Doctor strung between them, shouldering his weight with his arms over each of their shoulders. The Doctor’s head was lolling on his chest and he smelled like a liquor store had exploded all over him.

“Which way to the bedroom?” asked Rory.

“That way,” said Rose, pointing as she stepped out of their way. “What happened?”

“We all went out for drinks, but he was doubling up on us,” said Jack as they hauled him in. Rose closed the door and followed them into the bedroom. “We didn’t notice how far gone he was until it was too late. He’s got a pretty high tolerance, but…” The two men groaned as they lowered their friend, face down, onto the bed. “Make sure he stays on his stomach,” he told Rose. “In case he pukes. You don’t want him to choke.”

She wrinkled her nose at the image. “Will do. Thanks guys.”

She saw them out, then returned to the Doctor. She removed his shoes, then curled up next to him, gazing at his flushed face. She wanted to be angry that he was up til all hours of the morning, getting flat out pissed, but mostly she just felt sad. She’d been scared. How did he do it? How could he just turn off the worrying and forget her in the bottom of a glass?

Every time she felt settled and secure in their relationship, something would happen to upend her. She hated it, never being able to hold onto that feeling of security, no matter how many times he told her he loved her.

Rose pressed a fist to her chest, trying to stop the aching of her heart. She wondered if the Doctor even knew what that felt like, with the way he’d been so closed off for so many years. She wondered if he knew what it was like to never feel sure of where you stood.

* * *

Rose lingered awkwardly at the edge of the party, the noise of the people mingling around her all blending together. She held a flute of champagne in one hand, but had no intention of drinking it. She’d really only taken it so the diligent waiters would stop offering her a drink.

The Doctor had already left the Flat by the time she’d woken up that morning. She wondered if he was still mad at her. That afternoon, Rose had received an elegantly wrapped package from a courier and she’d hoped it was from the Doctor, a step toward opening the lines of their communication again. The box had held a beautiful floor-length white gown with scalloped edges, a dreamy concoction with subtle beading at the neckline, and a bit of an odd choice, since she didn’t wear a lot of white.

The card, however, was not from the Doctor. It was an engraved invitation to a farewell banquet for Harry. On the back was a personal message from him in blue ink, _I’m leaving for America to conquer the business world across the pond. Please come._

She hadn’t really wanted to go, but staying at home was driving her up the wall, and she was in no mental condition to work, so she put on the dress and went to the highrise hotel where the banquet was taking place.

It was a mistake, she’d known the moment she’d arrived. She didn’t belong there. She should’ve gone to a Tesco’s and gotten a pint of her favorite ice cream, though she doubted that would have made her feel any better either. She should just leave.

“Rose.”

She turned to see Harry, dressed in a light gray suit with a white tie, smiling at her, obviously pleased that she’d worn his dress. She wondered if he’d chosen his suit to match on purpose and immediately felt a bit uncomfortable. She didn’t want anyone to think they were there together.

He came to her and took the glass of champagne from her hand, setting it on a nearby table, then briefly brought the hand he held to his lips. “I was hoping to cheer you up by inviting you here,” he said. “But it looks like I’m having the opposite effect.”

“No, it’s not that,” said Rose. How she was feeling had nothing to do with the party and even her discomfort over the dress was a very distant thing. She just couldn’t get her mind off the Doctor no matter what she tried. Her gaze strayed from Harry’s, looking out over the sea of party-goers, searching for something to say. “Lot of people here,” she said, finally, not caring that the comment was completely inane.

He chuckled shortly. “They’re all media people,” he said. “Here to kiss my arse for the last time.”

“When do you leave for America?”

“Day after tomorrow,” he said, taking a step closer. “The same day you do.”

Her eyes snapped back to his face. “What?”

Rather than answer, he brought an arm around her shoulders and turned so that they both were facing the crowd. Raising his voice, he said, “May I have everyone’s attention please? I have an announcement.” He smiled down at her. “This lovely lady will be accompanying me to the United States.”

Rose’s jaw dropped, every word drying up in her throat as they fought to be the first ones across her lips. What on _earth_ was Harry _doing?_ There were so many reporters! Already, she could hear them buzzing amongst each other, recognizing her as the Doctor’s girlfriend, speculation on their breakup, and wondering if Harry had stolen her.

Harry’s smile never faltered as he dropped to one knee in front of her. “Rose, I love you,” he said, taking both her hands in his. “I promise to dedicate my life to making you happy. I’ll never give you a reason to doubt me.”

The subtle inflection on the word ‘me’ was not lost on Rose, but she was still too stunned to say anything. Had he actually just _proposed_ to her? The reporters seemed to think so, as everyone around them burst into spontaneous applause. Camera phones flashed, capturing the moment. No doubt they looked like the perfect couple, making a wedding announcement with her in a white dress and him in a dove gray suit. Was everything he did so calculated?

The noise abruptly halted as the door at the end of the banquet hall banged open to reveal the Doctor, in his shirtsleeves and tie, but no jacket, breathing hard as if he’d run all the way. A crumpled square of paper fell from his hand as he narrowed his eyes at Rose and Harry. Her invitation had led him to her.

“Harry,” he panted, his voice a low warning. “I believe you have something of mine.”

Harry got back on his feet, his brow furrowed as his confident smile slipped. The Doctor’s gaze flicked to Rose and he came forward, holding out a hand for her.

“Come on, Rose, let’s go.” When she didn’t move, he stumbled slightly and stopped, staring at her in disbelief. “Rose?”

“How do you know?” she asked, quietly. “How can you be so confident that going with you is what I want? You just show up and assume I’ll always follow you? I’m _never_ sure that you’ll come when I call. I’m _always_ worried that you’ll find someone new, someone better than me. Maybe I’m the only one really in love here. You have no idea what that feels like!”

The Doctor took a step back, gobsmacked. Harry put his arm around Rose’s shoulders as if he had every right, and motioned toward his security team.

“You heard the lady. Get him out of here!”

The Doctor struggled against the two burly men in black suits who fought to hold onto his arms and drag him out of the hall. “That’s crap, Rose!” he shouted. “You think you know how I feel? You think this is confidence? I am _terrified_ of losing you!”

Harry had been trying to lead her away, but she shrugged off his arm and turned back, hardly daring to believe what the Doctor was saying.

“I thought you’d hate me when you found out what I’d done,” he said, his face crumpled with desperation. “And that hurt so damn much… I didn’t know what to do. I love you so much it scares me to death! You have _no_ idea!”

Rose covered her mouth, choking back a sob. She hadn’t known. She had no idea that he felt the same way she did, that he could be just as insecure. She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck, making the two bodyguards release their grip on him. The Doctor brought his arms around her, holding her so tightly.

“Every time I held you, my heart said how easy it would be to lose myself in you,” he said, his lips moving against her temple. “It scared me so much, every day I waited for the other shoe to drop, for my heart to break all over again, but I couldn’t help myself. I love you.”

“Me too,” she said, threading her hands into his hair. “I couldn’t help it. I wanted it to be you, always! I’m so sorry, Doctor, I’m sorry I thought I was the only one who worried and confused that for love.”

He swallowed the rest of her apology, taking her lips in a sweeping kiss. All around them, the press was having a field day, half of them capturing the action on camera phones and the other half wondering just what the hell was going on. There was a lot of confusion on why Harry was taking Rose to America if she was the Doctor’s girl. The words ‘love triangle’ were thrown around quite a bit.

The Doctor pulled back and cupped Rose’s face in his hands, his smile only for her. “I want you to know… I never took your love for granted. But I always believed in it.”

She smiled and nodded, pressing his hands to her face.

With a look that was more of his cocky self, the Doctor swept his arm around Rose and hoisted up her legs with the other. He smirked at his brother. “Hope you don’t mind if we take off. I’ve got plans for your fiancee.”

Harry just glowered at him.

The Doctor sobered for a moment and tilted his head to indicate the press. “You brought this on yourself, Harry. Now, let it go.”

A group of reporters followed after them as they left the hall, but gave up when the Doctor carried Rose into a lift with a cheerful “no comment.” At her insistence, he also set her back on her own two feet with only a mild pout.

“Was that a good idea?” she asked as they went down to the lobby. “Harassing him in front of all those reporters?”

He shrugged. “I doubt they’ll get to print much, if anything. He’s got them all in his pocket.” He lifted his left eyebrow at her in a stern expression. “Now, what were you thinking, going to that party in the first place?” he asked. “You got the hots for him or something?”

Rose giggled. “You’re adorable when you’re jealous.” Smiling up at his frowning face, she leaned into him as they exited the lift. “Relax. My ‘hots’ are all reserved for you, I promise.”

“You sure about that?” he said, tugging on his ear. “I see the way you look at that grumpy-faced copper on that one crime show…”

But he was just teasing, she could tell from the way he tried to hide the happy smile creeping onto his lips and brought his arm around her, sifting his fingers through her hair. She wouldn’t doubt his feelings anymore. She knew they were both aware of what it felt like to love and be loved.

They came to a halt just outside the lobby. Lucy stood there in a blood red dress, her arms crossed in front of her and a deep scowl on her face.

“Just what is so damn special about her?” she demanded. “She didn’t believe in you.” She stalked forward, her hands clenched into fists. “How can you love a woman who doubts you? Explain that to me! You owe me that much!”

“I don’t owe you shit,” said the Doctor, coldly. “No one can explain why they love someone. And I wouldn’t tell you if I could.” He tucked Rose closer against his side, his voice softening as he said, “Those words are for her.”

Rose smiled, then drew herself up and squared her shoulders. It was past time she stood up for herself. “You’re done, Lucy,” she said in a firm tone, cutting the other woman off when she tried to protest again. “You have no place in our life.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the Doctor watching her with a proud smile on his face. From the look in his eyes, one would think she held all the stars in the sky in her grasp. With him at her side, she almost felt as though she did. Little by little, they were each learning to be honest about how they felt.

“You think you’re so smug. You ruined everything for me!” Lucy spat at Rose, but Rose wouldn’t let herself be cowed by this woman anymore. She’d lost far too much of herself by letting Lucy trick her into thinking she wasn’t good enough.

Rose rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, adopting an annoyed pose. “God, Lucy, get a grip. It’s over. What do I have to do to get rid of you? Do you need to physically _see_ how much the Doctor and I love each other? You wanna watch us fuck?” She turned to the Doctor and grabbed him by his lapels, pulling him in until there was hardly an inch of space between them. “I’ll show you right here, right now.”

The Doctor blinked down at her, obviously very startled by her behavior, but he didn’t appear to be against it. “Rose… Really?”

Her cheeks were flushed when she looked up at him, but her eyes held the challenge as she tilted her head, letting her hair fall to the side, baring her shoulder. That was all the invitation he needed to bring his lips to that smooth expanse of skin. Rose’s answering moan wasn’t faked, but it was certainly loud enough to carry over to Lucy, who was shaking with rage.

“You’ll regret this,” Lucy vowed in a guttural tone. “You think you can humiliate me and get away with it? I’ll make you pay!” She turned and stormed away, the skirt of her red gown billowing behind her like smoke.

Rose and the Doctor took a breath and gave each other a little space. Not that they didn’t want to continue, the just normally preferred a more private setting, despite Rose’s dare to do him right there in the lobby to Lucy.

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or worried,” he said, taking her hand. “That was cruel, for you.”

She lifted one shoulder, pressing her lips together in a show of mild remorse. “I know. And you know I wouldn’t have, except Lucy doesn’t strike me as a subtle woman. A gentle ‘back off’ wasn’t going to do it.”

“Hmm,” he said by way of agreeing with her. “Think we really got the point across?” he asked with a cheeky twinkle in his eye. “Perhaps we should carry out with your threat and fuck in front of everyone.”

She pinched his arm.

“Ow! It was a joke!”

“It wasn’t funny!”

* * *

The next day, the morning editions of the papers and gossip rags were full of pictures and speculations over the drama from Harry’s banquet. By noon, they had all been pulled from the stands. Rose guessed that Masterworks’ legal department was really earning their wage that day, but even so, the damage had been done. Everything was already being bounced around the internet via social media.

She was surprised to receive a call from Harry that evening. After all the trouble he’d been through, he still hadn’t given up.

“I owe you an apology,” he said before Rose could hang up on him. “I’m sorry for… how things went yesterday. But not for what I said. I still want you to come to America with me. I’m leaving from Heathrow tomorrow at three. I hope you’ll consider it.”

Rose sighed. “I don’t know how to make you understand. I love the Doctor and nothing you say or do is going to change that. Why won’t you just let us be?”

The dial tone was her answer.

* * *

Harry stood in the center of the terminal, just outside the entrance to security. His amber eyes searched the crowd, his lips pulled in a grim line. He checked his watch. He knew he’d have to abandon hope soon, if he wanted to get through security and reach his flight on time. Part of him had still thought Rose might change her mind.

With a sigh, he shifted his coat over his arm and reached for the handle of his carry-on bag.

“Harry!”

He turned. A willowy blonde ran toward him, a small bag over her shoulder, her chest heaving with every panting breath, until she came to a stop in front of him. She gulped, courage and uncertainty mixing in her blue eyes.

“Take me with you,” Lucy begged.

He felt stunned. “You want to come with me?” he asked, as though he couldn’t quite believe it.

“Yes,” she said, nodding. “You… changed me. I want you to teach me more. When I’m with you, my heart doesn’t hurt. I want that. I’ll do anything you say, just like before, if that’s what you want. Turn me into a woman worthy of _you.”_

He didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t the woman he’d been hoping for, and what he felt towards Lucy was definitely more than a passing interest, but could they make that work for them? What did he want from her now? For her to do as he said? A perfect doll? He honestly didn’t know, but maybe… that was a good thing. A clean slate. Wordlessly, he held out a hand for her and she ran into his arms.

“Perhaps we are two sides of the same coin,” he mused. Both a bit broken, both willing to do whatever it took to achieve their ends. In that light, she already _was_ a woman worthy of him.


	19. Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and the Doctor play a new bedroom game featuring creative use of his tie. The band visits Florida's Key West and the Doctor does NOT propose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW! Very light bondage and some BDSM themes.

Rose looked up at the darkening sky through the double glass doors that led out to the Flat’s balcony. A plane was making its slow ascent into the clouds, its red lights blinking on and off. She wondered if it was Harry’s plane, if he was finally winging his way out of their life. After everything she and the Doctor had been through because of that man, she couldn’t help but be relieved.

She turned as the front door opened, her face breaking into a wide smile as the Doctor entered, tossing his keys on the table as he did so, his coat following along in short order.

“Hey,” he said, grinning. “Whatcha doing?”

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head slightly. She felt her heart thud as she watched him shrug out of his brown pinstriped jacket, she was just so happy to be with him again, on the same page. No more looking at the past. From now on, they would face the future… together.

Sashaying over, she grabbed his tie in one hand and pulled him into the bedroom with a smirk. An intrigued twinkle in his eye, he gamely followed along, allowing her to do as she liked. With a firm shove, she pushed him down onto their bed, his breath leaving him with an “Oof!” Before he could sit up, Rose climbed over him, straddling his stomach, her hands on either side of his head as she leaned over him.

“Promise me that I’m the only girl for you,” she said.

He smiled. “Come on, you know that’s true,” he said, clearly not taking her seriously.

“I just… I want you to know the _real_ me.”

She traced the cords of his neck with one hand, going down to his partly open collar, wiggling her index finger into the knot of his tie. With one motion, she tugged it apart, then slid it from his shirt. Her eyes darkening to deep gold, she grabbed his arms and held them above his head. His mouth parted slightly as she looped the tie around one of the posts in the wrought iron headboard, then brought the silk around his wrists, tying them securely. She smiled wolfishly as he tugged and the tie held him fast. This was certainly a switch! But the Doctor found he rather liked seeing this new side of Rose, if the growing erection tenting his trousers was any indication.

“I know you think I’m sweet, but I’m not,” she said, sliding down his body, her still-clothed breasts teasing him with their softness. She worked to open his trousers and free his cock from his pants as she spoke. “I’m possessive. And jealous. Of your past, of your fans… I’m jealous of every woman I see reflected in your eyes.” She’d tried to hide this side of herself from him before, her petty anger and jealousy, because they were childish, ugly emotions, and she had been so afraid he’d leave her if she became a burden. But they’d said they would be honest.

She stroked him to full hardness, then stopped, waiting until he opened his eyes and looked at her. “Just like you, Doctor, I won’t let you leave me. I might be yours, but you are mine, too.”

When she slid her lips over the head of his erection, slowly enveloping as much of his length as she could, her name erupted from his throat in a strangled groan. His arms jerked and the headboard squeaked, he was still at her mercy. His hands balled into fists, his arms shaking, as she hummed and slurped around him. The sound of it shouldn’t have been sexy, but it fucking _was._ His cock twitched and pulsed in her mouth because watching her head bob up and down, her gorgeous full lips wrapped tight around his cock, was robbing him of nearly every coherent thought. It was even more exciting because, tied down as he was, with her lying on top of his legs, he could barely move and every instinct in his head was telling him to thrust, to grab, wanting more and more. The tendons in his neck stood out as he clenched his teeth and strained against the tie.

“You could have told me,” he panted, raising one eyebrow, “you got off on this before.”

She lifted her head with a pop and the sight of her wet lips so near to his straining cock almost undid him. “You don’t mind being tied down, then?”

He grinned. “Tied up or tied down, doesn’t matter to me. As long as I’m tied to you.”

She smiled and crawled over him to kiss him hard on his mouth. He moaned, his shoulders lifting off the bed as he tried to get closer, being unable to hold her.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he said in a slight whine when she pulled back. “At least take off your clothes so I can see you.”

Rose had no doubt that the Doctor did see her, all of her, for who she was. Imperfect… and utterly in love. “I have no idea what I’m doing right now,” she admitted softly, biting her lower lip.

He shook his head in lieu of shrugging. “That’s alright, you’re allowed to not know. I’m enjoying this so far, as long as you are too, then… I’d say we’re on the right track toward, well, something.” He jutted his hips a few times, waggling his eyebrows to let her know _exactly_ what he meant.

A slight blush lingered on her cheeks as she tsked at him playfully and moved all the way off the bed this time. Inexperienced or no, she intended to carry this as far as she could as long as they both had fun. She quickly tugged off his chucks and socks, then inched his trousers and pants down his legs.

“You want to see me? You’re gonna have to earn it,” she said, licking her lips as she started on the buttons of his Oxford. Thus far in their relationship, she’d enjoyed him being the more dominant partner. But the whimper he made when she bit down on his left nipple made something dark curl in her abdomen. She wanted _more._ “I think I want to hear you beg.”

He groaned and his Adam’s apple bobbed around a thick swallow. “I think I’m going to regret letting you tie me up.”

“Hmm. A challenge.” She leaned over him and blew a cool stream of air along his cock, following a vein running up the underside.

It twitched in response and he whined. “Please?”

The tension inside Rose’s core tightened again. He sounded so unlike himself, so desperate and vulnerable. She had no idea she could do this to him.

“That’s a good boy, you know the magic word,” she said, sweetly, straightening up. “But please, _what?_ Please take you in my mouth? Or…” Her hands went to the hem of her top, playfully lifting it a tiny bit. “Please let you see me?”

He growled, glaring at her, and she saw a flash of the Doctor she knew in his frustration. “In your mouth. Now.”

“Ooh, that wasn’t the right word,” she said, but she gave him one long lick to acknowledge his earlier ‘please.’

His hips lifted off the bed, trying to chase her mouth as she retreated. “Fuck, Rose!”

“Also not the right word,” she said, lazily stroking him. Deliberately reaching under her top, she caressed one breast, closing her eyes and moaning.

He jerked against the tie again, grunting in irritation that he couldn’t touch and also couldn’t really see what she was doing. The headboard rattled loudly. “I’ve decided,” he rasped, his breath coming hard. “I don’t like this game anymore.”

She opened her eyes, worried that she’d gone too far. But the Doctor’s eyes were still black with desire. He just wasn’t getting what he wanted. Something inside Rose felt utterly wicked at denying him. “I guess that’s too bad,” she said. “Since you can’t do anything about it.”

As she continued to stroke his cock, keeping him aroused but not giving him enough attention to get off, she moved her other hand from under her shirt to her thigh, sliding her fingers under her skirt to touch herself. The moment her eyes fluttered shut, the Doctor made his move.

Having worked the tie looser with each tug, he pulled his hands free and sprang up, grabbing her around the waist. He flung her down on the bed, face first, and jerked her skirt up. When he grasped her knickers, Rose heard a tear as he ripped them down to her knees, but she couldn’t even voice a protest, because he was entering her swiftly from behind and all coherence was lost to a cry of fulfilment.

He moved like a man possessed, fucking her hard and fast, one hand digging into her hip, the other fisted in her hair, holding her down in the submissive position. “Mine,” he bit out. “This,” he punctuated the word with a slap on her arse, “is mine!”

It didn’t really hurt, it was mostly noise and a slight sting, but the excitement of it made Rose gasp. “Yes!” she managed to say.

“And these,” he said, letting go of her hair to grab her breasts through her clothes. He tugged her up until she was able to lean on her elbows, then squeezed the soft flesh, feeling her hard nipples pressing into his palms.

“Yours,” she said between gulping breaths. “All yours!”

“And this,” he said, reaching around her head to touch her lips, sticking his first two fingers into her mouth.

She answered him by sucking on his fingers as she would his cock, swirling her tongue around the digits and moaning.

“Good girl,” he growled. Pulling out of her all the way, he flipped her over, then slammed back home. Looking down at her flushed face, her heavy lidded eyes, and wet lips made him move harder, to drive himself deeper with every thrust.

When she reached down to touch her clit, he grabbed her hands and held them down on the bed. “No,” he ordered. “I couldn’t touch, now you can’t touch. Move your body, fuck yourself on me, work to get yourself off!”

Rose moaned and wiggled, her face taut with concentration, she arched her back and wrapped her legs around his hips. Her voice climbed higher as she moved with him, desperately seeking her own release. Suddenly, she cried out and her upper body went rigid while her hips bucked convulsively. Her head fell back as she groaned loud and long. Her inner muscles clenched down on him hard, pulling his orgasm from him. He grabbed her hips, holding her tight to him, and hunched over her body, gasping as he filled her with his come.

He fell down on top of her and they remained like that for a long time, her core occasionally spasming in little after-shocks around his softening cock.

He stirred when she gave a little giggle and opened one eye to glare at her. “What?”

She smiled innocently. “I was just thinking I should tease you more often. If it gets you to fuck me like that.”

He pinched her behind in response, making her squeal and jerk. “Minx.”

* * *

Rose was practically vibrating with excitement as Paradox climbed off their chartered bus in Florida’s Key West. She stepped onto the white sand beach and looked out at the endless sea, the breeze blowing the skirt of her sundress around her legs. It was still the Atlantic, but it was a completely different color here in the United States. That might not have meant much to the others, but it did to her. She was overseas for the first time in her life!

She knew the band was there to work, Van Statten and Romana had arranged this photoshoot for the band at great expense. The pictures would eventually be turned into an exclusive calendar to be sold at Paradox events. But they were still spending the weekend in a resort town, and almost the whole band had brought their significant others along, so it felt more like a holiday than work.

Rose had gotten to know Amy and Rory and their daughter pretty well, but it was a treat to see Jack interacting with Ianto after hearing so much about him, and to meet Donna’s shy boyfriend, Lee. Mickey sulked quite a bit, since his girlfriend Martha was the only one who couldn’t make it, but she was a medical doctor and her schedule at the hospital didn’t allow for vacations that weren’t planned months ahead of time.

Van Statten spent the majority of the time while the crew set up reminding everyone to wear sunscreen and keep their shirts on if they could help it. “A little color is fine, but a sunburn is the enemy of any performer! And no surfing! I don’t want any of you getting injured!”

“He sounds like a naggy old woman,” the Doctor whispered to Rose, making her hide a giggle behind her hand.

Rose hung out with the other ‘wifeys’ while the band shot tons of pictures on the beach. The term made Amy laugh and Rose blush, while Ianto rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny anything, and Lee stuttered adorably for a few seconds before shrugging in acceptance.

“Ianto and Lee are actually a bit jealous of us,” Amy confided in Rose as the two women played with Melody down by the water’s edge. The cold water felt wonderful in the hot, humid atmosphere, and helped keep the baby from getting cranky.

“Why’s that?” asked Rose.

“Because we work with the band,” said the redhead. “We get to see our loves more often. You more than any of us, since I only do photoshoots and shows.” She angled her chin at Mickey. “Poor Micks, he and Martha have to really work at their relationship since they’re both so busy, but from the few times I’ve met her, it’s obvious they’re nuts about each other.”

Rose had never really thought about how much time she spent with the Doctor compared with the other members of the band and their significant others, but it was certainly true. Her security clearance pretty much allowed her to go where she pleased at Kasterborous, she could spend as much time as she liked with or at least near the Doctor, as long as he wasn’t recording. She thought about how hard she and the Doctor had fought to be together. Would they have made it as a couple if they hadn’t been able to see each other as much? She thought so. She would work even harder, if that was what it took, and she knew the Doctor would, too.

“How did they even meet?” Rose asked Amy, getting her mind back on the conversation.

Amy laughed. “I’m surprised no one’s told you the story yet. This was back when the group was really new, the Doctor got into a fight backstage and the guy suckerpunched him, knocking him out. He was bleeding, a real mess. Mickey and Jack took him to A&E and Martha was the doctor on duty. Jack said it was love at first sight. For Mickey, at least. Martha was completely professional.”

“So, what? Did Mickey come back and ask her out?”

“Please,” Amy scoffed. “For all the bragging that man does, he has absolutely no game. Martha gave Jack the prescription for the Doctor’s pain meds, and then, as the boys were leaving, Martha stopped Mickey and handed him a prescription paper with her number on it!”

“Ooh!” said Rose, lifting her eyebrows. “That girl is _good!”_

“We’ll get her to arrange a night off when we go back to London, you two really should meet.”

“Yes, all the wifeys should go out!”

The Doctor jogged over, interrupting their giggle session. “We’re not shooting again until sunset,” he said. He looked to Rose with a melting smile. “Want to go on a date?”

Her heart leapt. “Of course!”

The band splintered off, eager to enjoy themselves for a few hours. Rose and the Doctor walked along the boardwalk, heading for the rows of shops that marked this part of town a popular tourist spot. Rose noticed right away that everyone they passed by was very tan and wore very little clothing. Girls apparently thought nothing of wearing skimpy denim shorts with skimpier bikini tops. Men often went without shirts entirely.

Surprisingly, a small group of girls stopped them to ask the Doctor for a photo. Paradox was popular in the UK, but Rose thought it unlikely that these girls would know about the band here in America, unless they were real anglophiles.

She graciously offered to take the picture for the girls and they all gathered around him as he offered a game smile, his hands loosely in his pockets. They fawned over him afterward, telling him how ‘hot’ he was and giggling over his English accent. Rose just smiled. For some reason, she didn’t feel jealous at all this time.

As they managed to resume their walk, the Doctor blew out a breath, finally letting his ‘on-stage’ smile fade. “Sorry about that,” he said. “They thought I was a model or something, and still wanted the picture when I said I wasn’t.”

“Women just like you,” she said, bumping his shoulder with her own. “You’re tall, handsome, charismatic…” She stopped when she noticed him preening beside her. “Oh, you know all this, you just wanted me to say it!”

“Flattery will get you everywhere with me, Rose,” he said, grinning.

She stopped walking. “Hey.”

He followed suit, looking at her in concern. “What?”

She looked up at him, realization dawning on her features. “I don’t have to hide that I’m your girlfriend here.”

They didn’t really ‘hide’ their relationship anymore, not like before, but they did have to refrain from public displays of affection, in case there were any paparazzi around, eager to put them on the front page. A slow smile crept across the Doctor’s lips.

“That’s right,” he said. He ducked his head slightly, which made him look almost shy, and held out a hand, wiggling his fingers in an enticement.

Rose reached over, sliding her palm over his, locking their fingers together. Her heart skipped a beat. It was such a simple gesture, holding his hand, something others took for granted. It meant so much to her, to be able to do it here without worrying that someone would see, would intrude. Here, she was just a girl with her boyfriend, his hand a perfect fit in hers.

He tugged her closer as they started walking again, giving their arms a little swing. “Want to go shopping? Do the tourist thing?”

She honestly didn’t care what they did at that point, but she nodded delightedly, a skip in her step.

He happily let her drag him from store to store, buying anything that made her eyes light up. He also insisted on purchasing a tiny bikini printed with the American flag, even though Rose tried to talk him out of it.

“I’ll never wear it apart from this weekend!” she said. “It won’t be warm enough in England!”

He nodded, thoughtfully. “I’ll have to arrange more holidays somewhere warmer.” He booped her nose with his index finger. “And even if you only wear it for me, I’ll consider it money well spent.”

She rolled her eyes, but gave up the argument. She didn’t think it would look as good on her pale body as it did against the Florida girls’ bronzed skin, but the Doctor apparently didn’t care about that. To him, she was always sexy. Rose could wear a bin bag and he’d say she looked amazing. And he’d _mean_ it, that was the incredible thing.

She couldn’t help but smile as he returned from the cash register, swinging the paper bag holding the latest purchase teasingly. She loved him so much that sometimes she forgot just how much she _liked_ him, too.

They enjoyed an adventurous lunch of conch, because the Doctor saw a sign that said it was _the_ food of the Florida Keys and couldn’t _not_ try it. For Rose, ‘enjoyed’ was a very broad term. She opted to let the Doctor finish her portion and ordered an extra slice of Key Lime Pie instead. He promised they could go out for margaritas with the rest of the band after the sunset shoot, Van Statten would squawk if he came back to work pissed.

They began wandering back toward the beach, discussing the sticky weather and the regular hurricane threats so common to this area. They wondered why anyone would choose to live there, particularly when most things had to be shipped from the mainland, making everything so expensive. Rose thought about how, just a short time ago, she never would have even contemplated coming to a place like this. Her life now, though she’d adapted to it, still seemed bizarre when she really thought about how far she’d come.

Rose stopped in front of a vendor selling from a cart underneath a striped umbrella, a jewelry display catching her eye. She picked out a ring made of white and purple puka shells.

“This is so cute,” she said, trying it on for fun.

“What is it?” the Doctor asked, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“It’s a ring made of seashells. I haven’t seen something like this before. ‘Course, I didn’t go to a lot of beaches…”

He nuzzled her ear. “Do you want one?”

She felt her cheeks heat up. “Oh, no, you’ve bought me way too much already!” she protested around a breathy laugh. She felt silly as she put the ring back and moved away from the cart. Was it childish to think that a man buying his girlfriend a ring was something special?

She turned and gave him a big smile. “Come on, let’s go see the surf shop at the end. Just because we can’t do it, doesn’t mean we can’t learn about it!”

He lifted an eyebrow at her sunny behavior, letting her trot ahead of him.

* * *

They sat on the beach a short distance away from where the crew was beginning to set up the second part of the photoshoot. The Doctor would have to rejoin the rest of the band soon, but he and Rose were enjoying these last quiet moments before sunset, with her sitting between his legs and leaning back against his chest, both of them looking out at the crashing waves.

Beside them lay a small pile of cream colored sand dollars they’d collected from the shore. Rose had insisted they throw back all the purple ones that were still a sea creature’s home, but she fully intended on displaying the ones they’d kept in a decorative bowl at the Flat.

Shifting slightly, the Doctor reached into the pocket of his jeans. “Rose?”

“Hmm?”

Rather than say what was on his mind, he took her left hand in his and held it up. Before she knew what he was up to, he’d placed the puka shell ring on her finger. Her eyes widened and she twisted around to look at his smug face. He seemed pretty pleased that he’d managed to purchase it when she wasn’t paying attention.

“You looked like you wanted it,” he said.

“But…” She looked back at her hand. He’d put it on her ring finger.

“I do plan on getting you something nicer, eventually,” he said, conversationally. “So, I guess this isn’t really a proposal. Not yet.”

She scooted around in the sand, curling her legs up underneath her, to stare at him. Her heart was pounding harder and harder in her chest. Was he saying what she thought he was… or not?

He cleared his throat and leaned his head back, tugging on one ear. “I’m, uh… That is, I’d like to make a reservation.”

A little smile touched the corner of her mouth. It was so unlike him to be this awkward. But the smile melted into something like wonder as he met her eyes, his heart shimmering there in the glowing amber, lit up by the late afternoon sun.

“The fourth finger on your left hand,” he said, holding her gaze. “I want to reserve it.”

Her hand went to her mouth and the ring brushed against her bottom lip, as if to remind her what was happening, or at least what he was insinuating. Did he really mean that… one day, he’ll…?

She pounced on him and they fell back into the powdery white sand. “I love it!” she said between kisses, love filling her heart to bursting. “I’ll treasure it always!”

He smiled against her lips. “It’s just a ring made of seashells.”

She lifted herself up above him, her hair coming down to form a golden curtain of privacy around their faces. “I don’t care,” she said with a radiant smile. “It means the world to me.”

It was far more than just a circle of white and purple shells to Rose. It was a promise.

* * *

Rose wandered down the beach, her sandals dangling from her fingertips. Sunset was melting into a blue and gold sea, the sky on fire in red, orange, pink, and yellow, and the band was still shooting, about a mile up the shore. Rose had wanted some time to herself, to revel in her giddy happiness in private.

The thumb of her left hand worried the ring on her fourth finger and she smiled, unable to help herself. Amy and Donna might think she was being silly for being so excited over it, when the Doctor hadn’t _actually_ proposed yet, but out here, she didn’t have to worry about embarrassing herself with her joyful smiles. She twirled in the shallow surf a few times, her white sundress flaring around her, and her spirit soared. She kicked her bare feet through the foamy water and danced and laughed. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to come back down and she was perfectly happy with that.

She came to a slow stop as her attention was suddenly drawn to another group of people in the distance. She was surprised to see another filming crew, though this photographer was just shooting a single female model. _Maybe it’s for a magazine,_ she thought. The beach was a beautiful backdrop to shoot against, after all.

She startled slightly as she realized that the photographer’s camera wasn’t actually pointed at the model, but toward her. _He must be trying to shoot the sunset,_ she thought. Not wanting to be in the way, Rose turned and jogged back toward the Paradox shoot.

She didn’t hear the photographer call out over the sound of the surf.

* * *

Rose groaned and rolled her neck as she trudged down the street. It was their second day back in London and after taking the first day to ‘recover’ from the jet lag, she still felt like she was dragging. London was having some unseasonably warm weather, which was why she’d chosen to walk down to Kasterborous instead of taking the tube, but it was still much colder than Florida. Even with all the downsides she and the Doctor had discussed, she found she missed the resort town.

She looked down at her ring and smiled. Maybe it was the happy memory making her feel wistful. At least she had a tangible reminder with her.

Her mobile rang from within her purse and she sighed as she fished it out. She frowned because it was the Doctor’s ringtone. _He knows I’m on my way, what gives?_ she thought as she pressed the receive button.

“Hello, love--”

“ROSE, WHAT THE HELL? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME??”

She winced, holding the phone away from her ear. “Stop screaming at me! What are you talking about?”

“What were you doing in Key West while I was away?” he demanded, a trifle less loud, but no less confused or upset.

She furrowed her brow and continued her walk, the phone held to her ear. “I still have no idea what you’re on about,” she said. “We were there together, I didn’t do anything--”

As Rose rounded a corner, she was met with a huge advert for makeup featuring a closeup of a girl’s face on the side of a double decker parked at the curb. Her voice died in her throat, her eyes going wide as her jaw fell open. The Doctor was still talking on the line, but she couldn’t seem to hear what he was saying. Shock had made her go numb.

The girl in the advert… was _her!_

_ _


	20. Photo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose tracks down the photographer who took her picture. He makes her a tempting offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but this was the best place to end it before the next one.

 

Rose stared at the advertisement until the double decker bus drove away, her mobile forgotten in her hand. How had they gotten ahold of her image? And why were they using _her_ for a makeup advert? She wasn’t a model or anything…

“Rose!” came the Doctor’s tinny voice through the mobile speaker, and she jumped, reminded that she was still on the phone with him. “Where are you?” he asked.

She gave him the street corner and he told her not to move, he’d be there in ten minutes. Before she could say anything else, the line cut off.

She moved to the stoop of a closed shop and sat down, officially freaking out. _Why_ kept repeating in her head. It seemed like no time at all before the Doctor drove up in his Tardis and told her to get in with a frown. She blinked as she took a seat in the car, eyeing the black faux fur coat he was wearing along with his tight leather trousers.

“Don’t ask,” he said, preempting her question. “I left in the middle of something.” He took off like a shot as soon as she’d buckled her safety belt. “Now, what’s with you being on a billboard?”

“Seriously, I have _no_ idea,” she said. “Maybe it’s just someone who looks like me?”

“No, it’s you,” he said. He kept his gaze on the road, but his eyes narrowed as he lowered his brows. “I could never mistake that face.” He blew out a breath. “Don’t worry, I’ll find out who the photographer was--”

“Hold on,” she said, suddenly. “I think I know when it was taken!”

“When?”

“At Key West, during the evening shoot, yeah? I went for a walk down the beach. I saw another film crew and I thought I saw someone staring at me, but then I figured I was just imagining it. That was probably it.”

He frowned again, pushing the car to go faster. “Damn it,” he muttered, striking the steering wheel with the flat of one hand.

He parked at Kasterborous haphazardly and they both hurried to the building. Van Statten was standing in the lobby, waiting for them, and looking anxiously at his watch.

“About time,” the manager said, irritably. “They’ve started the shoot without you.”

The Doctor looked at Rose as Van Statten punched the button for the lift. “Rose, what were you thinking about when that picture was taken?”

Her cheeks flushed pink and she bit her lip, looking down. “My ring,” she told him. She clasped her hands together, her right over her left, hiding it from view. She knew it was just a cheap seashell thing made for tourists, but she loved it. It meant so much to her. “I was thinking about you and the ring you gave me.”

His face hardened, his jaw going tight and the dimple cutting a deep slash in his cheek. “I thought it might be something like that.”

She shook her head. “Why are you so angry about this? I mean, I know _I’m_ angry, but it’s _me_ in the picture.”

The doors to the lift opened and the three of them got inside, but the Doctor pushed Van Statten back out. The older man stumbled back into the lobby and almost fell down as he attempted to turn around before he fully stopped moving.

“Take the stairs,” the Doctor said, his finger already pushing the ‘close doors’ button. The manager’s outburst was muffled by the lift’s doors. The Doctor turned to Rose and took both of her hands in his. “I’m angry because that was a private moment,” he said, running his thumb over the ring on her finger. “It should have been something between just you and me. There’s one part of my life that I don’t have to share with the world, and that photographer stole a piece of it.”

The doors opened again and he stalked out, every line in his body tense. Rose exited the lift, but followed him slowly. She knew he was furious and she hated it, even though it wasn’t directed at her. She had to find that photographer and she wanted to do it right away, before her own anger had time to cool off. She didn’t give anyone her permission to take her picture, let alone use her image for profit!

Van Statten came through a door near the lift then, huffing and puffing, his whole shiny head red from exertion. Rose turned to him, her face taut with determination. “I need your help finding someone.”

* * *

The blond photographer stepped back from his tripod, scowling at the busty redhead modeling a designer bikini on the set in front of him. “No,” he said, sharply. “You can’t fake it; the camera can tell. Reach _deep.”_ He moved back to the camera and looked down at the screen’s image. “Don’t be shy, think about where you want me to touch you.”

At once, the girl’s eyes softened and her moist lips parted. The lights flashed and the shutter snapped. He smirked. Manipulating women was so easy. The shutter snapped again and again.

The door opened behind him, and his assistant’s voice called out, “Mr. Lazarus, there’s someone here to see you.”

He didn’t bother to look up, not when he finally had the model doing what he wanted. “Do I interrupt _you_ when you’re making love? No? Then don’t bother me while I’m--”

“But sir…”

Lazarus glanced over his shoulder, but the girl standing with Tish made his frown melt into happy surprise. “Oh, it’s you!” He turned away from the camera, completely forgetting about the model and sauntered over with a smile. “I was wondering how long--”

Rose cut him off, lifting her chin and speaking crisply, “I didn’t give you permission to take my picture, much less to-- AH!” She shrieked as the photographer grabbed her breasts in both hands and gave them a squeeze. She leaped backwards, knocking into the man’s dark-skinned assistant, who automatically put out her hands to steady Rose before moving away to talk to the model still on set. Rose crossed her arms protectively over her chest. “What the bloody HELL do you think you’re DOING?”

“Checking to see if they’re real,” he said as though it should be obvious, still smiling. “They have a really good size and nice shape.”

She felt her face heat in both embarrassment and fury. “You pervert!”

But he caught her hand in mid-air before she could slap him across the face. “Shhh,” he said, soothingly. “Just take your clothes off.”

She yanked her arm away. “I will not!”

“Of course you will,” he said, giving a slight snort of disbelief. “I’m Richard Lazarus. Surely, you’ve heard of me?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Now, I don’t want you getting too excited, I don’t plan to shoot you right _now,_ I just want to get a better sense of your body.”

Rose’s jaw dropped at the utter audacity. “Look, mate, I don’t know who the hell you _think_ you are--”

“I told you,” he interrupted, leaning closer to her. “I’m Richard Lazarus. My pictures redefine what it is to be female. And there are millions of girls who’d _die_ to pose for me. But today’s your lucky day, sweetheart, because I choose _you.”_

Rose leaned away, completely disgusted. And yet… there was something about this man… in his gestures and maybe his cockiness? She had to choke back a gasp when she realized that Lazarus’s come-on-strong technique reminded her of the Doctor when they’d first met! Heaven forbid the two men should ever meet.

“I’ll pass,” she said, through clenched teeth. “I’ve decided not to sue you for selling my image without consent. In return for my generosity, you’ll have all the advertising pulled and never come near me again!”

She turned to go, but he called for her to wait. Her hand on the doorknob, she paused, waiting to see if he refused her offer. She really didn’t want to have to go to court over this, it would cause the Doctor all kinds of unneeded stress.

“I can’t believe you didn’t like my photo,” he said. “I thought I really captured your beauty.”

She sighed. “That’s not the point--” His hands came down on her shoulders, making her jump.

“Let me try again,” he pleaded, his voice so earnest that she didn’t instantly move away. “Give me another chance to distill all that loveliness and fire into one single, intoxicating image.” He leaned over her left shoulder, his words close to her ear. “What do you say?”

Distracted and flustered, she darted out from his grasp and blurted, “Even if I wanted to, I’d want to talk about it with the Doctor.”

“The Doctor?”

Rose gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth. She did not want this man within a hundred _miles_ of the Doctor! “No! That’s not what I meant--!”

But Lazarus was already turning away from her. “So, all I have to do is convince your doctor. Alright.”

“No, hold on, that’s not--!”

* * *

“Richard Lazarus?” asked the Doctor, shifting slightly in the throne-like chair he was sitting on. He was dressed only in a red velvet robe, trimmed in fake ermine, draped strategically to cover the important bits.

“Yeah, that’s probably who did the advert,” the photographer of the shoot said, his eye still trained on the camera. “He’s very hot right now, only shoots women. He does a lot of those softcore idol prints that sell like crazy. Rumors say he’s big on sleeping with his models.” He glanced up. “Can you turn your head to the side a bit?”

The Doctor followed the direction and kept his game face on, but his eyes were stormy. “Great, just what I need,” he muttered.

Despite his distraction, he managed to satisfy the photographer and they parted after another hour, with the man advising him to start thinking of new ideas for the next shoot. The Doctor was surprised to find Rose waiting for him outside, leaning against the Tardis in the car park, with a nervous look on her face.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, coming towards her. “I thought we were going to meet back home.”

“Doctor, I had to tell you--”

“Well, well…” came a voice from around a nearby corner, where a wall separated the building the Doctor had emerged from and the next business. A man in a posh suit, casually open at the neck, stepped around the wall. His light blond hair caught the breeze and his smirk was echoed in the twinkle of his blue eyes. “I didn’t think she meant THE Doctor.”

The Doctor removed his sunglasses to give the interloper the full effect of his frown. “Who are you?”

“Richard Lazarus. I’m a photographer.”

“THE Richard Lazarus,” the Doctor said, so calmly that his mocking tone was almost missed by Rose. “Hot new shooter, famous for bedding young starlets?”

Lazarus snorted. “Are we talking about you or me?”

Rose cringed. She’d had no idea that the photographer had followed her and now this meeting was going just as badly as she’d predicted.

The Doctor lifted an eyebrow as Lazarus came nearer and then leaned in close to him, studying his face intently. “What?” he asked finally, irritated.

Lazarus smiled. “Anyone ever tell you that you have an asymmetrical face?”

“Some have,” said the Doctor. “Are you trying to change the subject?”

Lazarus leaned back again, smiling. “It’s beautifully proportioned and makes you even more interesting to look at,” he said. “If you were a woman, we could make a mint together.”

The seething anger was nearly palpable as it rolled off the Doctor in waves. Rose was afraid that the Doctor might do Lazarus some serious bodily harm if he didn’t shut his mouth. The photographer seemed not to notice the impending threat to his person as he removed a rolled up manila envelope from the interior of his dark navy jacket. He held it out to the Doctor.

“Anyway, here. The image of your girl,” said Lazarus and the Doctor snatched it from him. Unconcerned, he continued, “Really a pity. We’ve had a lot of great feedback on it. The sponsors gave me no end of trouble for pulling the photo.” Shifting his stance, he dropped all pretenses. “I’d like Rose to model for me officially.”

“Forget it,” said the Doctor.

“I figured you’d say that,” said Lazarus. “And I get where you’re coming from, but come on, are you really so threatened by me?”

“No,” said the Doctor, tucking the envelope into his own jacket. “My reasons are my own. But believe me, this is as much for your sake as it is for mine.”

“Oh? How so?”

“You’d be wasting your time. You could never get another shot like that one.”

Rose, who had been feeling frustrated by both of these men discussing her as if she wasn’t there, suddenly looked at the Doctor in shock. What did he mean? Did he have so little faith in her ability to be a photographer’s model?

“What makes you so sure?” Lazarus asked, echoing Rose’s silent question.

The Doctor smiled at the other man, but it held no warmth, only conceit. “Because _I_ put that smile on her face. Your were just a Peeping Tom with a camera who got lucky.” He put an arm around Rose, directing her to the passenger side of the Tardis. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Uh, okay, sure,” she said, letting him lead her.

She tried to hold in how upset she was, not wanting to get into an argument with her boyfriend in front of a stranger. While she didn’t want to model for Lazarus, she didn’t really appreciate that they’d talked about it in front of her like it was the Doctor’s permission he needed, not hers. And what was that about Lazarus being lucky he got the shot he did? Didn’t she smile beautifully on a normal basis? She sighed as she shifted her weight to get into the car. At least he and the photographer had been fairly civil. Perhaps she’d worried about them meeting for nothing.

Lazarus spoke up again, making both of them pause. “If I could get that kind of look out of her again… I could make her a star.” He shrugged and crossed his arms, adopting a careless attitude. “If you’re so certain it can’t be done, then where’s the harm in letting me try? Unless, of course, you’re threatened…”

The Doctor smirked, then looked down at Rose. “Alright, you have my blessing.”

She blinked. “What?”

“If it’s something you want to do, Rose, then go ahead. I won’t say anything.”

She felt heat creeping into her cheeks. Suddenly faced with the opportunity, she turned uneasy. “Uh, Doctor, I’m not sure I’m ready to--”

“But,” he said, looking over at Lazarus. “You get one chance at this. If you can’t get the image you want in one shoot, you forget this ever happened and leave us alone. One afternoon, one shoot, then it’s over. No more teasing her with promises of stardom, we never hear from you again. Ever.”

“Deal,” said Lazarus, smiling confidently. “I got the shot once, I’ll get it again.”

* * *

Rose chewed her bottom lip as they drove away, fidgeting her fingers in her lap. Her mind kept going back and forth between wanting to model and not wanting to. What if she wasn’t any good? It would be so embarrassing. But another part of her whispered about Lazarus’s talk of stardom. It was very tempting. “Do you really think he could make me a star?” she asked at last.

The Doctor shook his head slightly. “Forget about it. It’s not gonna happen. The shoot’ll be a bust and he’ll lose interest. The end.”

She furrowed her brow at his dismissive tone. “Well… what if I _want_ to be a star?”

“What if you _what?”_ He jerked the wheel and the car’s tires screeched as he pulled them over, narrowly missing another car. Putting the Tardis in park, he turned to her, his dark eyes wide and incredulous. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying? Rose, our lives are complicated enough as it is! If you went into the entertainment business, I mean, in the public eye rather than behind the scenes, we would lose what little privacy and security we have. If you went in front of the camera, I wouldn’t be able to protect you at all.”

“You’re thinking about this all wrong,” she said. “If I became a star, then we could be _equals!_ We’d understand each other better because we’d share the same life. The same joys, the same pains, and--”

In one smooth move, he unbuckled his seatbelt and lunged over the stick shift, plunging one hand into her hair to bring her into a fierce kiss. Rose melted under the onslaught of his tongue, stroking hers and seeking all the places inside her mouth that drove her wild. When he pulled back, it was only just enough to speak, his wet lips brushing hers with every word.

“Just listen,” he said, quietly, his eyes still closed. “I don’t want to share you with the world. You are the one part of my life that is sacred. You don’t know what you’re asking for when you think about stardom, Rose. Please… just forget it.”

She was speechless as he righted himself and resumed driving. She could sense how intensely he felt about this, but how dare he presume he could just lay down the law for her, distracting her with kisses and making her lose the steam of her argument. Why wouldn’t he want to share that part of his life with her? She didn’t really see what he was so afraid of. And what about _her?_ What about _her_ dreams?

She looked at him sidelong. _Wait a tick…_ she thought. _If Lazarus can get a good shot of me, then the deal’s off!_ She relaxed back against the seat with a small smile. All she had to do was be a good model. How hard could _that_ be?


	21. Image

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose finds out that being a model is much harder than it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Some non-con kissing here.

The day of the photoshoot, Rose woke up early, too excited to sleep in. She ate a light breakfast so she wouldn’t look bloated in the pictures and even did a few stretches to limber up, having no idea what sort of poses might be asked to do. The Doctor woke up shortly after she did, showered, and got ready for work without comment, though the dark cloud over his head was practically unmissable. Still, he gave her a kiss and wished her luck with an air that seemed sincere before he tugged on his jacket.

“Be careful,” he said, lifting her head with the crook of his finger beneath her chin. He met her eyes with firm seriousness. “This bloke is a known creep. If he tries anything with you--”

“Don’t worry,” she said, rubbing a hand along his bicep. “I’ll be careful. I’ll leave if he does anything besides take pictures.”

He nodded once and left the Flat to go to Kasterborous for the day. His calm attitude was more than Rose had hoped for and she thought that boded well for the shoot. She wasn’t worried about the Doctor showing up and raising a fuss, having changed his mind about the deal.

All through the ride in the hired car to Lazarus’s high-rise studio, Rose daydreamed about her coming stardom. After all, she’d given an advertisement-worthy smile when she hadn’t even been trying, no doubt she’d stun the photographer today. Her excitement cranked up another notch when she arrived. Lazarus’s assistants surrounded her, arranging her hair, applying her makeup, and helping her into the wardrobe for the shoot. With all the attention, she already felt like such a star!

Rose finally got a look at herself in the full length mirror when the assistants declared her ready. Her blonde hair was teased out, making it look fuller and fluffy, her makeup was subtle and dewy, making it appear like she was wearing hardly any, though it still felt like she had on as much as she usually did. She wore a short-sleeved white top and a light blue fringed skirt with matching heels. The outfit was simple, but she’d seen the designer labels. The collective pieces were easily more expensive than her entire wardrobe.

She was led out to the working area of the studio, a massive open space with multiple backdrops and sets in place, littered with various lights, the floor covered in masses of cables that she struggled not to trip over in her six inch heels. Lazarus was busy giving orders to his crew as she approached. She was almost surprised when he didn’t make any lascivious comments as he put her in front of a plain white backdrop and positioned himself behind the camera. He was intent on doing his job. Her heart thudding in her chest, Rose smiled.

The lights flashed and the camera snapped. Lazarus took another, then straightened and looked at her over the lens. “Erm… Rose, are you uncomfortable?”

Her stomach twisted in sudden nervousness. She wouldn’t say she was exactly _comfortable,_ she’d never been in this situation before, but she knew that he wouldn’t be asking unless there was something wrong with her expression. “Do I look tense?”

“Yeah. I know this is new for you, but try to relax.”

She blew out a breath and shook her hands at her sides, then smiled again. Lazarus took another photo, but was still frowning.

“Is that supposed to be a smile?”

The pit in her stomach grew. “Well… yeah. Is it weird?” It _felt_ like the smile she always had. What was wrong with it?

“Show me the smile I saw in Key West.”

She resisted the urge to bite her lip, knowing it would spoil her lipstick. She didn’t have a camera in her face in Key West, that was the problem. She was too conscious of the photographer.

Lazarus took another photo, checked the digital screen, then blew out an exasperated breath. “Your eyes are absolutely dead, there’s no _story_ in them, no mystery!” He looked up at her, furrowing his brow. “Rose, what are you thinking about?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “You’re thinking about being famous, aren’t you?”

She froze, her heart sinking. How had he known that was what she’d been thinking about all day?

He sighed and shook his head. “Look, the camera isn’t stupid,” he said, gesturing at the tool of his trade. “You can’t lie to the camera. You have to really feel something. You can’t just think about superficial things, it shows in your eyes and your smile, every time. They’re empty.” He turned away with a careless gesture. “Everyone, take thirty minutes. Rose needs to clear her head.”

Dejected, Rose plopped down in a makeup chair, her shoulders slumped, her hands clasped in her lap. She felt so guilty for holding up their whole day, just because she couldn’t take a good picture. She had no idea how to achieve what Lazarus wanted of her. She wasn’t a professional model. What he was offering her, it would change her whole life. How was she supposed to ‘clear her head’ of _that?_

Through her melancholy, her ears suddenly perked. The radio station playing over the speakers in the studio had switched to a Paradox song. It was an older one, before she’d become their lyricist, called _Crime of Passion._ She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself as she listened.

There were people all over London listening to the song just then, but she knew no one heard it like she did. No one else could hear the Doctor sigh and simultaneously remember how his breath had felt on her neck the night before. She shared him with the world, but there were still some things that were just hers.

Lazarus paused in his pacing across the studio, his eyes falling on his muse. As he took in her rapt expression, unguarded with her eyes closed, something clicked. He knew then he’d been going about the shoot the wrong way.

He grabbed Rose by her hands, pulling her up from the chair she was sitting in. “Come on, break’s over,” he said, ignoring her confused questions. He moved her to a different set and pushed her down onto a wrought iron bed with white sheets.

“What’s with the bed?” she asked, warily.

“You’ll see,” he said, snapping on two lights as he called to his assistants to bring his equipment to the new set. While they set up the camera’s tripod and adjusted the lighting and reflectors, he went back to her and gripped the white shirt she was wearing in both hands.

Rose shrieked as he tore the garment almost down to her navel, then shoved the sleeves halfway down her arms, revealing her lacy bra and a lot of cleavage. “What the _hell_ are you doing?!” she yelled, grasping the edges of the fabric and turning her exposed chest away from him, trying to keep herself covered. She glared over her shoulder, ready to berate him some more and announce that she was leaving, but the photographer had already moved away, behind the camera, a wild light in his eyes. He didn’t want _her,_ he wanted the picture.

“Embarrassed?” he asked, seeming pleased with himself. “Good. Look at you now. All flushed, excited…”

Her face was burning, but all she felt was anger. Lazarus was interpreting her all wrong, but maybe he saw something different through his lens. She was ready to get up and walk out, the only reason why she hadn’t was because he hadn’t touched her other than to tear her clothes.

“Trust me,” he said, from behind the camera. “Don’t flinch. Look right into the lens.”

Her eyes widened as the camera snapped. He wanted her to look like _this?_ She’d hadn’t signed up for _this_ kind of photography!

“That’s it,” he said, though she hadn’t done anything but clutch her shirt tighter, not wanting her breasts on film. “So vulnerable.” The camera snapped again. “It’s beautiful.”

_Vulnerable?_ she thought. That’s what the Doctor said sometimes, when they were together, making love, he said she showed everything she felt on her face, all her vulnerability. She closed her eyes, not wanting to associate Lazarus with the memory.

“Your skin looks amazing, Rose,” the photographer went on as the camera and lights continued to work. “Soft, creamy… Innocent. Skin that makes a man want to sully it.”

She ducked her head, her cheeks flushing again. Her body remembered what it felt like to have the Doctor tease her like that, about leaving marks on her body to show off his ‘claim.’ It was no effort at all for him to make her tremble, he could get her hot and bothered with just his words. Just the sound of his voice was enough to get her wet for him. Just a single, heated look with those fiery amber eyes…

“Show me more,” Lazarus crooned, “let me see inside your heart.”

Her head full of the Doctor, her lungs short of breath, Rose inhaled deeply and looked up, flicking her hair back out of her face. The lights flashed as the camera whirred, capturing the image.

“Holy shit,” one of the assistants commented from behind the digital readout screen where all the pictures were instantly transferred. “That’s hot.”

Lazarus straightened. “No,” he said in a low voice, scowling up at Rose. “No! It’s not right!” he said, stepping back, his voice raising in agitation. “Her focus isn’t _here!_ I need her to emote to _me!_ I want her to look through the camera at _me!”_

A door across the studio closed, halting Lazarus’s tirade and catching everyone’s attention. The Doctor removed his sunglasses as he stepped further into the space, tucking them into a pocket of his jacket with a smirk.

“Time’s up,” he announced. “Let’s go home, Rose.”

Rose’s whole face lit up and she raced over to him, throwing her arms around his neck. “Doctor!” she exclaimed. “I was just thinking about you!”

“Were you?” he asked, looking over her shoulder at Lazarus with an eyebrow lifted.

The photographer stood frozen. The Doctor’s words came back to him with startling clarity. _Just a Peeping Tom with a camera who got lucky._ He’d been trying all afternoon to get Rose to smile the way he remembered, then the Doctor showed up and achieved it in two seconds. _I put that smile on her face,_ the Doctor had said. He hadn’t been bluffing. Lazarus finally understood why Rose’s smiles for him had been empty.

“Oi, ratbag.”

Lazarus looked up, only to stumble back in pain as the Doctor belted him in the jaw.

The Doctor’s eyes burned with contempt as he glared at the other man. “Don’t _ever_ put your hands on my girl again.” He turned away, removing his jacket, which he draped over Rose’s shoulders. Tish handed Rose a bag with her street clothing in it on their way out.

Lazarus tested his jaw gingerly, prodding it with one hand and slowly moving it back and forth. The Doctor packed a hell of a punch. He was also an idiot if he thought he was the first jealous boyfriend Lazarus had ever dealt with.

* * *

“I saw that final shot,” the Doctor said as they got into his car outside. “Thinking about me, eh?”

She looked down at her hands, blushing. “Ehm, yeah. It’s always you. I couldn’t get a good picture until I started thinking about what you do to me.”

He shook his head, eyeing the glimpse of cleavage she was showing beneath his jacket, where her shirt was torn. “Look at you, all aroused for another man’s benefit. Bet you’re just aching for me, aren’t you?”

She covered her face. “Doctor!” She shivered as he ran one hand from her knee, up along her inner thigh, below her skirt, just inches from where she tingled in anticipation. “Not here,” she pleaded. “Let’s go home…”

“And fuck?”

Her face blazed behind the shield of her fingers as her core clenched, hearing him wrap his lips around that filthy word. “Y-yes…”

“No.” He removed his hand and started the car.

Her hands fell from her face in shock. “What?”

“I said no.” He pulled out into traffic. “I’m not going to reward you for getting tarted up and turned on for _that_ tosser, even if it _was_ because of me. So, no, I won’t fuck you tonight.” He glanced at her sidelong with a smirk. “However,” he added, “I _will_ tease you. Touch you, and make you beg to come.”

She shuddered, his voice doing unspeakable things to her. She gripped the seat below her, her fingernails biting into the leather, and pressed her thighs together, fruitlessly seeking the friction she needed. “Oh, God… Doctor…”

“Oh, now, don’t talk dirty, Rose, or you might make me change my mind…”

God, he was an arse. But heaven help her, she loved him.

* * *

Lazarus was waiting for Rose when she exited Kasterborous on her lunch break the next day. Not even her scowl could break his cheery grin as she walked determinedly past him, her chin held high.

“Are you stalking me? I thought you were supposed to go away,” she said when he followed after her.

“Not at all, I don’t have time for stalking. I had an assistant follow you, then tell me where you were,” he said.

“You apparently had enough time to come here and pester me. And that’s still stalking.”

“Surveillance.”

_“Stalking.”_

“Semantics. I do all sorts of things I’m not supposed to. It’s part of my charm.” He caught up to her, walking side by side. “Anyway, I must admit that maybe you’re not cut out to be a professional model, but I still want to photograph you. If that mysterious little smile of yours belongs to the man you love,” he shrugged, “I’ll just have to make you fall in love with me.”

Rose stopped walking, her jaw falling open.

Lazarus swung around so he was facing her. “The first time I saw you I knew I had to capture that smile.”

She bit her lip, but couldn’t contain a giggle. He frowned, putting his hands on his hips.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” she said, waving her mirth away. “I was just thinking that sometimes you remind me of the Doctor. He said the same thing to me, ‘the first time I saw you I knew...’”

“I remind you of him?” He leaned closer, invading her space. “Good. I guess that means I’m your type.” Grabbing her shoulders, he pulled her to him, one hand sliding up to tangle in her hair as he slanted his mouth over hers.

Rose grimaced, pressing her lips tightly together as she struggled to fight him off. Gaining a little space between them, she told him “Stop!” But he took advantage of the word to stick his tongue in her mouth. She wiggled her hands up between them and shoved at his face, finally breaking free. Shakily, she aimed a slap at his cheek, but he’d apparently learned from the incident with the Doctor, because he ducked, avoiding the blow.

“Come on, Rose,” he said, advancing toward her again. She backed up rapidly, avoiding getting within his arm’s reach. “If we’re the same type, why pick the musician? I could give you loads more attention, make you the center of my world. As my muse, I’ll make the _world_ fall in love with you.”

“Get the hell away from me,” she ordered, getting ready to run as she groped to open her purse and find her mobile. She didn’t dare take her eyes off him.

His expression turned from engaging to serious. “I’ll do anything for the sake of my art, Rose,” he said, making it sound like a warning. “If you have to love me to give me the look I want, I’ll make you love me.” He held up the thumb and forefinger of each hand, framing her inside both of them. “Right through the lens of my camera.”

He turned then, walking down the street in the opposite direction, hands in his pockets as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

“Oi!” she cried after him. “How dare you! D’you hear me? I don’t love you, I’ll never love you! You stay the hell away from me!”

Lazarus gave no sign that he heard her. He climbed into an expensive-looking black car at the end of the curb and drove away.

Rose distractedly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, still utterly creeped out. Where the hell did he get off, thinking he could stick his tongue down her throat? She’d lost her appetite for lunch, but she desperately wanted something to take away the slimy feeling in her mouth. She hurried a few doors down to her usual cafe to get something to eat.

She sat at the counter, staring at the sandwich she’d bought. It had two bites out of it, her stomach had protested eating any more. The encounter with Lazarus was still floating around in her head. He thought he could _make_ her love him? As if. The man was nothing but a lech.

Well… maybe not _nothing_ but. She supposed she had to admit that he’d stood his ground with the Doctor, asking for what he wanted and not backing down. He just went about everything the wrong way. And she guessed he was attractive enough, with his corn blond hair and slightly hooded blue eyes, even the mole on his cheek was somewhat striking. She just couldn’t feel anything beyond acknowledging that he was a good looking man, there was nothing beyond that.

The flat-screen telly behind the counter switched from the footie match to an advertisement. She glanced at it, then saw it was the one Paradox had done for the new Bose headphones. They’d made a deal with the producers to offer a limited edition Paradox version of the product as part of the ad campaign.

The advert had been filmed to look like one of their flashy stage shows. The band played and the Doctor sang the ending chorus of _Gotta Have You_ while the Doctor’s voice over played on top of it, “Bose is standing at the apex of audio technology. This is the future of digital sound. You can really _feel_ the music.” The band stopped and the Doctor looked right at the screen with his signature sexy smile. “Turn it on. And get off.”

Rose’s mouth went dry. _Damn,_ she thought, the image staying with her, even though the screen had changed to a different advert. _Lazarus might be a bit attractive, but there’s no way he can compete with_ that. _The Doctor’s just raw!_ As far as she was concerned, no one could match him in sex appeal.

“Waiting for someone?”

She almost choked in surprise as the Doctor took the barstool next to hers, giving her a cocky grin. “What are you doing here?”

“Rehearsal ended early and a little birdie told me my girlfriend always comes here for lunch,” he said. Stealing the untouched half of her sandwich, he took a big bite, then frowned and spat it into a napkin. “Really, Rose? Cucumbers? Are we performing _The Importance of Being Earnest?”_

She stuck out her lower lip as he wiped his tongue and she grabbed the sandwich back. “It’s _my_ sandwich. Get yourself something else!”

She sighed when he patted his pockets and realized he’d left his wallet in his coat, so she ordered over the counter for him, peanut butter and bananas, and called him a cheapskate. She couldn’t keep the affection out of her voice, however.

She admired his profile covertly as she took another bite of her sandwich. It was times like this, just sitting at a cafe, having lunch together, that she could really see him as an ordinary man, and not a rock star. He yawned, closing his eyes, making his long eyelashes brush his cheeks momentarily. He was just… so beautiful. Without even trying. He looked so relaxed, yet he made her heart beat so fast.

“Eeee! He yawned!”

“Shhh! He’ll hear you!”

“But I’ve never seen him yawn before! He’s so cute!”

Turning slightly, Rose noticed that there were several young girls at the cafe tables around the restaurant, and they all had their eyes glued to the Doctor. She’d always come alone before and the other patrons had paid her no mind, but now she was the girl sitting with the celebrity.

“Why’s he with that girl?”

“She’s all over him!”

Rose knew she’d done nothing but sit next to him the entire time, so the comment was unwarranted, but fans tended to see what they wanted to. She faced her lunch again, just as the server brought the Doctor’s sandwich. “Doesn’t that bother you?” she asked him, tilting her head back over her shoulder to indicate his fans.

He shrugged. “I’m used to being looked at.”

“Really?” She didn’t think she could get used to something like that. She really wasn’t fond of it at the moment, it was too obvious that the girls didn’t want her there, invading ‘their’ celebrity’s space when they couldn’t. She guessed it would be too much to want to have a normal lunch with her boyfriend, like anyone else. Getting to her feet, she picked up her purse. “I’m just gonna go to the ladies…”

“Rose,” he said when she turned to go. “You don’t have to hold back. It’s okay to act like my girlfriend. Because you are.”

She smiled in answer and headed for the back of the restaurant. It was always nice to hear him say the words.

Once she was out of sight, a small group of girls at one table stood up and approached the Doctor. He followed the movement out of the corner of his eye and offered a tame smile once they were within talking distance.

“Excuse me,” one of them said, tentatively. “Doctor, can we talk to you?”

He turned halfway in his seat. “Sure. Hi. What about?”

The girl looked at one of her friends, who indicated that she should speak, before saying, “We saw her. That girl you were with? We saw her on the street before you came in here, and she was kissing another bloke!”

The Doctor went very still and the smile slipped from his lips, his expression turning neutral as the girl continued.

“We’ve seen the interviews, we know you’ve said you love her, but she isn’t as pure as you think!” she said. “Only a dirty slut acts like that! You just probably don’t see it because you’re working all the time--”

The Doctor leaned forward and placed his index finger over the girl’s lips. She went silent at once, her eyes going wide, as her friends collectively gasped.

“One more word,” he said in a low, warning voice, “and I won’t be the person you want me to be. You just called my girlfriend a slut. So be very careful. Stop now, and I’ll try to take the high road. But say one more word, and I won’t be the Doctor you fantasize about anymore. One more word and I’ll get ugly.”

The girls backed away, the one who’d spoken with tears in her eyes, murmuring apologies. They took their things from their table and hurried out of the restaurant. The Doctor frowned at his favorite sandwich. He didn’t want to eat it there anymore, the atmosphere after that encounter was making his skin crawl. He wrapped the sandwich in several napkins and put it in his pocket, just as Rose returned to where he was sitting.

“Oh, have you finished already?” she asked, looking at his empty plate.

“I’m done here,” he said, brusquely, taking her hand and all but pulling her from the cafe. “I’ll be in the studio late tonight. Wait for me, yeah? We’ll go home together.”

“Yeah. Sure,” she said, wondering what had put him in such a bad mood.


	22. Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lazarus is willing to do anything to capture Rose's smile, but the Doctor isn't threatened by him at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of NSFW stuff here (just so you don't get in trouble!).

Rose ended up going back to the cafe that night for a quick snack around dinnertime. The Doctor was still working and she was hungry, but thought he still might want to eat together back at Their Flat. Thinking that he’d asked her to wait for him so that they could go home together made her smile, it felt so domestic.

The heels of her ankle boots clicked along the pavement as she hurried back toward the studio. Teatime had long since past and the light was fading in the sky, so the streets were mostly empty, everyone already at home with their loved ones, getting ready for supper. She hoped the Doctor wouldn’t be too much longer and wondered if she should have gotten a second portion of chips for him. The band usually sent out for dinner if they were going to be this late, so hopefully they were on the verge of finishing up.

“There you are.”

She stopped short as Lazarus swung around from the interior of an alley and leered at her. She made a face, almost losing her appetite for the paper cone of chips in her hand. “What do you want now?” she asked, waspishly.

“Oh, don’t sound so angry,” he said, letting his shoulders droop in an exaggerated show of disappointment.

She really didn’t care if she upset him. She was still angry about his unwanted kiss that afternoon, and she hadn’t even gotten a chance to talk to the Doctor about it yet. If the Doctor showed up and saw them together, there would surely be a scene. “I don’t know how else to tell you to get lost!”

“I told you,” he said, coming closer and leaning down to look her in the eye. “I was going to make you love me, didn’t I?”

Before she realized what was happening, he’d grabbed her arm, stooped, then hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She squealed, flailing her arms, the chips flying everywhere as she kicked her legs and pounded his back with her fists. Her feet connected in a couple of soft places before he secured her legs better, but she must not have hit him anywhere too vulnerable, since he didn't go down or drop her. She landed at least half a dozen solid punches to his lower back, though she couldn't get much weight behind them from her awkward angle.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” she shouted. “Put me down!”

He grunted from the impact of her strikes to his kidney area, but kept moving. “You strike me as the kind of bird who likes a ‘take charge’ sort of bloke,” he said, calmly, as if she wasn’t struggling for all she was worth to get him to put her down. He opened the door to his car parked at the curb and tossed her onto the backseat. “So, I’m taking charge.”

He slammed the door and the remote locks immediately trapped her inside the posh leather interior of the black sportscar. He climbed into the front and started the vehicle, completely ignoring Rose’s protests. She looked around the backseat, but didn’t see her purse which held her all-important mobile. She must have dropped it when she had been hanging upside down from his shoulder.

Her heart was thudding a mile a minute. Was she actually being _kidnapped_ by this man? Where were they going? Kasterborous flew past the window and she looked out the back as it grew smaller in the distance. The Doctor had asked her to wait. He’d be out of his mind with worry!

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded. If he wasn’t going to stop the car and let her out, she at least wanted to know where they were going.

“That would ruin the surprise,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road, but the cocky smile carried across in his voice.

“Well, you’ve ruined everything else!”

He pursed his lips. “Tell me you love me and I’ll tell you where we’re headed.”

“In your dreams, you freak!”

* * *

The Doctor left the recording studio with his coat over one arm and a frown on his face. Van Statten told him that Rose had gone to get some food, but it had been over half an hour and she still wasn’t back. He thought maybe she’d stayed at the cafe to eat, so he walked in that direction.

He wouldn’t have seen it if a mess of scattered chips all over the pavement hadn’t made him step toward the alley. The bright reddish-pink color of the bag drew his attention, thrown against the wall where it was almost hidden next to a bin painted a similar shade. He knew it was hers before he picked it up to make certain. He felt it in the way his blood chilled in his veins. It wasn’t a fancy handbag made by an important designer, it was just a cheap, regular messenger-style bag from a department store discount rack that she’d picked because she liked the color. Liked it enough that, when a pen had broken and left a stain, she’d covered the blue area with a heart shaped patch. His own heart squeezed as he ran his thumb over the frayed pink piece of polyester.

Rose had dropped her purse and a million different scenarios as to why ran through his mind, each one more horrifying than the last. He hurried back to the studio like a shot, hoping to catch the rest of the band before they left. He needed everyone’s help.

* * *

“I want to go _home!”_ Rose yelled at Lazarus, bracing her arm against the door of the car as he pulled on her opposite wrist to get her to exit the vehicle.

“Well, you’re not _going_ home!” he said, breathless from the exertion of struggling with her.

“Why’d you bring me here?” she demanded.

“Just shut _up_ and get _out!”_

“No! What’re you--”

With a sharp tug, her hold faltered and he dragged her out of the car onto a wide green expanse of lawn. Her breath caught as she looked down the hill at the whole of central London, spread out below them. The sun was just setting over the skyline, a riot of dusky red near the horizon, with fingers of pink and orange reaching up to embrace a lavender sky. She realized they were on top of Primrose Hill, a spot famous for its view, though she’d never been there in person before. With the blazing sky above them and the city at her feet, she felt as though she might be atop Mount Olympus. It was breathtaking.

And confusing. “You kidnapped me to show me _this?”_ she asked.

“I had to rush so we’d make it on time,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets as he looked at the stunning landscape. “If I’d waited for you to agree to come with me, we might have missed the sunset.”

 _What a crap excuse,_ thought Rose. _He probably thinks he’s being romantic._ Coming from a man who thought he could _make_ a woman love him, it wasn’t too much of a stretch.

“I saw you for the first time at sunset,” he said. “And I was so taken with your smile. I wanted to bring you here because I thought if I could recreate that scene, you might show me that smile again.” He turned to face her, his expression tinged with an almost feral desperation. “I need to capture that smile, Rose, for the sake of my art, I’ll do anything!”

 _For the sake of his ego, more like,_ she thought. He just couldn’t stand it that he wasn’t able to reproduce something so simple as a smile on his own merits. With a sigh, she looked at the setting sun. It was beautiful, without a doubt, but how could she possibly smile? When the Doctor was out there and probably worried sick about her?

After a moment, Lazarus heaved a sigh of his own. “Fine. Let’s go.”

“Really?” she asked as he turned away from the scenery to head back to the car.

“Yes, really.” He opened the passenger side door for her this time and lifted his eyebrows at her. “What? You didn’t think I was going to force myself on you, did you? That would completely defeat the point.”

Warily, Rose got back into the car. She couldn’t understand why Lazarus was going to all this trouble for a photograph. If she knew what the smile he wanted looked like, she’d do it if she could, if only to get him off her back.

* * *

As she predicted, the Doctor had already left by the time Lazarus dropped her off at Kasterborous. Even worse, the receptionist told her that he’d come back and said that Rose had gone missing, prompting the band to start up a search for her. The Doctor had gone back to Their Flat in case she came home and she had the receptionist call him before she headed for the tube. She probably could have waited for him to come pick her up in the Tardis, but she wanted the time to think of how she was going to explain this little disappearing act to him. Besides, it would give him time to call everyone else and tell them to stop looking for her. She didn’t really have the words to describe how guilty she felt over making him worry, how angry and annoyed she was at Lazarus, and how embarrassed over the whole situation.

He was waiting for her, practically at the door, the moment she opened it. “Where were you?” he asked, without bothering with a greeting. His hair stood up at all angles, as if he’d been pulling at it, and the tense lines bracketing his mouth told her all she needed to know about how the past hour had been for him. “I found your purse in an alley! I thought--”

“Oh, you found it? Was anything missing?” It had been an automatic response, she’d thought the bag, and everything in it, would have been taken. That he’d come across it instead was a happy surprise. But it had been the wrong thing to say.

“Yes. _You.”_ She could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. _“You_ were missing, Rose. And then the lady at the front desk calls me after one of the longest hours of my life to tell me that you had just been dropped off? Dropped off by _whom?_ Why didn’t you _call_ me? Why was your purse left in an alley? And a lot of other questions that I’m currently too narked to remember!”

She bit her lip, knowing he had every right to be upset, even though it hadn’t been her fault. “Okay, first, calm down.”

“I am calm!” he insisted. “See how I’m not punching any walls right now? I’m calm!”

“Alright, then promise you won’t get angry.”

He blew out a breath and lowered his tone. “I won’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well, I’m gonna _get_ angry if you don’t tell me!”

Not seeing another way around it, she blurted out, “First, Lazarus showed up before you did this afternoon and kissed me in the middle of the street because he thinks he can make me love him, which is _completely_ ridiculous, then he came back when I was getting dinner and grabbed me on my way out of the cafe and then he drove me up to Primrose Hill to see the sunset. He said he did it to get me to smile. That’s it, I didn’t agree to any of it, I hated it, and nothing else happened.”

His lips tightened, then he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her toward the bedroom. “Alright, now I’m angry.”

“You said you wouldn’t!” she cried, stumbling after him.

“I lied.” He pushed her down on the bed and pulled a small digital camera out of his trouser pocket. “You want to be a model, Rose? Take off your clothes.”

“W-what?” she exclaimed, her cheeks heating up. She recognized that dark look in his eyes, he was jealous. She’d been prepared for that, but she hadn’t expected _this._

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “If you don’t get undressed, I’ll do it for you.”

Knowing better than to doubt his word when he got like this, Rose swallowed hard and began unbuttoning her jumper. The camera clicked when she got down to her silky camisole and knickers and she half-turned from him, angling her shoulder to hide herself.

“Look at me,” he told her and smiled when her eyes met his. “You’re blushing.”

“Of course I am!” she said, bringing her arms up to cover herself. “I’m embarrassed!”

“It’s just me, Rose,” he said, teasingly. “Come on, now… Give us a smile.” He poked her cheek when she pouted like a child. “You look like you’ve had some bad fish.” Grinning with sudden wicked inspiration, he pushed her down, straddling her legs, and used his free hand to tickle her ribs.

That got an instant reaction. “Doctor! No!” She laughed helplessly and tried to fight him off, all while the camera snapped picture after picture. “Doctor, stop it! Don’t take my picture like this!” She could barely get the words out around the laughter.

The pure happiness on her face took his breath away and her wriggling body underneath his sent his blood flowing south only too quickly. He set the camera aside and grabbed the hem of her camisole. “Let me help you out of this,” he said, pulling it over her head.

He tossed the garment aside and filled his palms with her warm, soft breasts as he leaned in to kiss her. She relaxed into the mattress, her hands coming up to the nape of his neck, twining with the short hair there.

“Don’t you want to take anymore pictures?” she asked, coyly, against his lips.

“I do,” he said with a smile. “But now my eyes are the camera.” He traced his hands across her collarbone, down her arms, over her hips, and down her legs, moving down her body until he held her ankles, encouraging her to bend her knees, to part her legs for him. “I’m finding all your best angles, taking the pictures of all the sides of you no one else gets to see.” He fit himself in the juncture of her thighs, settling them over his shoulders, then nuzzled her through her knickers with his nose and lips, inhaling her scent, making her shiver. “And I intend to capture every inch of you.”

Rose was sure, as he moved the thin material separating them out of his way, that if the Doctor had been a photographer instead of a musician, he would have made her a supermodel.

* * *

It was out of curiosity that Lazarus permitted the Doctor to enter his studio when he dropped by the next day. He wondered if the Doctor was there to punch him out for his behavior yesterday, since he was sure Rose would have told all by now. “Here to intimidate me?” Lazarus asked as the musician strolled forward.

“Nope,” said the Doctor, cheekily popping the ‘p.’ “As satisfying as that would be for me, I realize that violence isn’t going to keep you away from us, so I came to give you what you wanted instead.”

“And what’s that?”

He took a handful of snapshots out of his pocket and tossed them on a nearby table full of equipment. “Rose’s smile.”

Lazarus grabbed up each photograph in turn, staring in slack-jawed amazement at the amateur images. The lighting was terrible, the film was grainy, but the subject was incomparable. Rose’s face was wildly animated, full of life, her eyes brimming with love. Even when her mouth was wide open in a laugh and should have been unattractive, he couldn’t look away. She was stunning.

“How?” was the only thing that he could say.

“I don’t know anything about cameras,” said the Doctor. “I’m strictly point and shoot. My secret is just that I love her and she loves me.” He leaned over the table, gaining the other man’s attention. “And that means there are sides of her that are reserved just for me. Because I’m the man she loves. If you want to shoot her like this, you’ll have to win her heart.” He smirked. “And I’m not about to just hand her over.”

Lazarus ground his teeth. “You really shouldn’t challenge me like that.”

“I’ll take my chances.” He turned and headed for the door. “I doubt I have much to fear from a man who kisses unwilling women and thinks kidnapping is acceptable as a date.”

* * *

At the next team meeting, Romana passed out a printed version of the band’s schedule for the next month. “The 1st through the 5th, you’ll be in the studio. The 8th through the 10th, we’ll do day photoshoots for the CD inserts while squeezing in some television and radio in the evenings. Then the 20th through the 26th, we’ll be doing a new book shoot--”

“We’re doing another photo book?” asked Mickey.

“Wasn’t the one from Key West selling well?” asked Donna.

“Yes, but we had an offer from a very hot photographer,” said Romana. “It’s really excellent buzz. In fact, he was supposed to be here so I could introduce you all--” The door opened and the dark-haired producer smiled when she saw who it was. “Well, speak of the devil!”

Rose and the Doctor were gobsmacked as Richard Lazarus walked into the room.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said with a charming smile.

“Mr. Lazarus, let me introduce you to Paradox,” said Romana, gesturing around the long table.

“I’m really looking forward to this project,” he said. “I’d always made it my policy to only photograph women, so shooting the four of you with the lovely Donna will make for an interesting _challenge.”_ He lifted his eyebrows and looked directly at the Doctor as he said the last word.

“I’m thrilled you want the Doctor, Jack, Mickey, and Rory to be your first male subjects,” said Romana, oblivious to the tension thickening in the room between the two men. “And of course, I’m sure you’ll do Donna the justice she deserves. We couldn’t ask for better publicity.”

Rose’s spine had gone rigid. She just knew the photographer was up to something. When the band headed to the studio, she followed Lazarus out to the lifts. “Wait!” she called, skidding to a stop.

He turned around with his arms wide open. “Rose!” he said with a smile. “Don’t tell me, you’ve come to your senses and we’re running away together to spend our days shooting on a beach!”

“No!” she said, irritated. “I want to know what you think you’re doing. Why do you want to shoot Paradox?”

“Why?” he repeated. “Well, so I can get to know the Doctor, of course.” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her thoughtfully. “I have a certain talent, Rose, for seeing what type of man a woman is attracted to. When I photograph her, I become that man for her, to get her to respond the way I want her to. It’s part of what makes me a good photographer.” He pointed at her. _“You_ are attracted to strong men. Lusty, possessive, cocky, maybe forceful, sometimes selfish… Am I wrong?”

She didn’t say anything, because those traits _did_ describe the Doctor, but there was also so much _more_ to him that she loved that Lazarus didn’t know about. That hardly anyone else besides her knew about. Him pulling on his ear whenever he felt shy, peeling her grapes just because he knew she liked them, rubbing the back of his neck when he was embarrassed, carrying her when she was tired and her heels were hurting her feet, ruffling his hair when he got frustrated, the way he would laugh, openly and loudly, throwing back his head, his real, honest laughter that he only did around her and the band, not the low, sexy chuckle he did in interviews. The softer sides of the Doctor that utterly melted her heart. Lazarus didn’t have any of those qualities.

But since she didn’t naysay him, he went on, confidently, “Well, the Doctor and I both fit into that category.”

She held back a derisive snort and closed her eyes briefly to roll them.

“That is why I want to know more about him,” Lazarus concluded. “Because if we’re so similar, yet you choose him over me, there must be some hidden element I’m not grasping. The more I learn about the Doctor, the more I’ll learn about myself.” He leaned closer. “And the better prepared I’ll be to prove to you that I’m the better man.”

Rose was stunned. All this… for a photograph? The guy was mad! Before she could respond, a hand fell on her shoulder and she looked up to see the Doctor standing just behind her at her side. But his eyes were on Lazarus, cold and dark.

“If that’s what you think,” the Doctor said, “then your experience with women can only be counted in numbers and it hasn’t really taught you a thing.”

“Hmph,” Lazarus sniffed. “Says you. You might want to tie a leash around your girl’s neck if you don’t want to lose her, Doctor.”

“I’m not going to start taking bedroom tips from a sad bloke like you,” the Doctor returned with a smirk. “I tend to keep things simple. Maybe at _your_ age, you need to spice things up to make it interesting.”

Rose looked between the two men, nervously. They couldn’t be in the same vicinity without fighting. How were they going to photograph a whole _book_ together? This had the potential to be disastrous for Paradox’s professional reputation in the industry and it sat squarely in Lazarus’s hands.


	23. Urges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor proves himself as an amazing print model. Being unable to show him up at the photoshoot, Lazarus steps up his game to prove to Rose that her lover is just another man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains drugs and other NSFW content!

The Doctor was ready on the set when Lazarus showed up for the photoshoot. He removed his robe, leaving him in a pair of low-slung jeans and nothing else, and found his mark in front of the lights. The two men sized each other up silently, the invisible chasm between them yawning wide, the tension in the air as thick as London fog, before Lazarus moved behind his camera set up on the tripod and checked the viewfinder, adjusting the focus.

“Run the fingers of your left hand through your hair while you use the right hand to trace your body,” Lazarus instructed.

The Doctor complied, closing his eyes and moving his hands slowly to let the blond photographer capture shot after shot. Standing in the back, Rose followed the progress of the Doctor’s hand with her eyes, watching him trace his own neck and collarbone, then down his chest to the V at his waist. She bit her lip and squeezed her thighs together as the lights flashed. He’d just highlighted the path Rose most loved to follow with her lips and tongue when they made love. He’d done it on purpose because he knew she was watching, she was sure of it.

“That’s good,” Lazarus said. “Show me that it feels good.” The Doctor moved his hand back up, following a new path, and his body shuddered from the sensation. “Now look at me like you’re about to come.” The musician looked at the camera with dark, heavy-lidded eyes and bit down on his index finger. The camera kept of a steady rhythm of clicks in time with the flashes of the lights.

Lazarus paused to check the feed to the computer. There was no denying that the thumbnail images were amazing and sexy as hell. The Doctor was a perfect model… and he knew it, too. He grinned from his place on the bare set.

“Anything else… sir?” he asked, emphasizing the honorific for maximum sarcasm, knowing that this was Lazarus’s first time shooting a male subject.

The photographer narrowed his eyes slightly, then gestured to one of his assistants. “Give me that one,” he said, pointing to the handheld camera in the case on the floor. He moved away from the tripod and got into the set with the Doctor, holding the camera up to his face and adjusting the focus. “Move!” he barked. “Try to escape! Create some movement!”

The Doctor followed each rapid-fire instruction, jumping and twisting to create a moving effect on film. He snapped his head back to make his tousled hair wave, following the motion.

“Hot! Even better!” said Lazarus, capturing the Doctor’s every move. “Now think about her lips.”

The barb struck home as the Doctor flinched, lowering his eyebrows at the other man. Lazarus glanced up with triumph in his gaze, a smirk curving one side of his mouth. Rose nervously chewed the cuticle of her thumb, looking between the two of them, expecting an explosion of some kind.

But the Doctor just rocked back on his heels, giving Lazarus a smirk of his own. “You know,” he said conversationally, continuing to pose for the camera, “her lips aren’t the softest part of her.”

Rose’s face flamed hot as Lazarus responded, coolly, “Is that so?” He lifted the camera again. “Keep moving!”

The Doctor followed the instruction, keeping up with the photographer every step of the way. Rose couldn’t believe it. It was like they were feeding off each other. She knew the Doctor hated Lazarus, but he executed every direction perfectly, and it was like Lazarus himself was in some kind of trance. The Doctor, being as good as he was, couldn’t help but respond to Lazarus’s expert directing. The tension remained high through the entire shoot, but the two men were amazing together.

The team was put on break while the set was changed. Rose took the opportunity to snoop through the computer and take a look at the shots. As she’d suspected from watching the shoot, every shot was useable and very few of them needed touching up. It was all Doctor - sexy, sultry, full of that bad-boy smoulder. She was sure that the fans would love it.

After she’d spent about ten minutes looking through the pictures, she decided to pay the Doctor a visit in his dressing room to tell him how proud she was of him. It couldn’t be easy to work with Lazarus and do everything the man said, but he was pulling it off with professionalism.

A girl with long, dark hair bolted out of one of the other dressing rooms as Rose walked by, nearly bowling her over in the process. “I hate you!” she cried, tearfully, quickly disappearing off the set. Rose looked into the dressing room to see the subject of the girl’s ire and scowled when she saw Lazarus just pulling up his trousers, a lit cigarette in his mouth.

“What did you do to that girl?” she demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

“Why?” he countered, cheekily. “Want me to do it to you?” He smirked and stubbed the cigarette out in an ashtray sitting on his makeup table. “I just did that girl a favor. One last toss before I dumped her.”

“You what?” exclaimed Rose, outraged on behalf of the poor girl, despite not knowing her.

He leaned in, placing a hand on the doorjamb above Rose’s head. “Leaves me completely free to focus on you, sweetheart,” he said. “I _will_ make you love me. One way or another, I’ll make you beg for it. And then, you’ll show me that smile.”

She shoved him away from her. “Don’t make me laugh,” she said. Caught off-guard by her reaction, Lazarus actually backed up a step. “You do nothing but hurt people and make threats. You see people as toys! What do you know about love? How can you take such amorous photographs when you don’t even understand the meaning of the word love?”

Rose turned and left the dressing room area without waiting for a response from the photographer. She pulled her mobile out as she headed downstairs. She no longer had any desire to watch Lazarus work, she just wanted to go home. She texted the Doctor that she would meet him back at Their Flat, she wanted to get some work done on the next song.

Truthfully, what Lazarus had said disturbed her a little. He was so sure he could _make_ her love him. When she’d met the Doctor, he’d somehow known Rose was capable of writing sex-charged lyrics - he just had to pull it out of her. The Doctor taught Rose to write from her body… Had he made her fall in love with him, just to make her write how he wanted her to?

_God, please, no…_ she thought. But it stayed with her all the way home.

Later, she sighed as she hunkered over her notebook at the coffee table in The Flat. All she’d managed to do in the hours since she’d come home was write down a few ‘idea’ words for the song she was supposed to be working on. _Dangerous - Grabbing - Eyes - Begging_ all jumped out at her from the page, but they didn’t want to turn into phrases. She circled them for later.

As she groaned out her frustration with herself, she heard the front door shut and she sat up, turning to see the Doctor shrugging out of his jacket. He gave her a little half-smile and came over to join her on the sofa, curling a leg under him so he could situate himself slightly behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, tucking his chin onto her shoulder.

“I’m stuck,” she said, gesturing at the notebook open on the table.

“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully. “Can I help?”

He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. Normally, his nearness would make her senses flare, but considering her distraction, getting physical was something she couldn’t handle right then. Not until she knew the truth of the matter.

“Umm, Doctor,” she hedged, gently easing herself away from him in order to turn and look him in the eye. Deciding to come out with it all at once, she blurted, “Did you make me fall in love with you so that I could write for Paradox?”

He tugged on his ear, his eyes sliding away for a moment. “You… want to know why I seduced you? Are you sure?”

She nodded, though uneasiness twisted her stomach. “Yeah, I mean, I’m just some girl. I’ve wondered forever why a rock star would want me of all people…”

“You won’t be shocked?”

“Is it shocking?”

“Kind of.” He shifted on the sofa, leaning forward to place his forearms on his thighs. “Cards on the table… I _did_ seduce you for the lyrics. That’s all I really cared about at first. But then… they started not to matter anymore.” He turned his head to look at her and she could see the honesty shining in his eyes. “I just wanted you to love me.”

His openness was actually the bit that shocked her the most. The Doctor was often so closed, even to her sometimes. “When did that happen?” she asked, almost breathless.

He rubbed the back of his neck, pressing his lips together. “Around the time I wrote _Song to a Wolf._ I sat down to write a love song and all I could picture was your face.” He smiled. “I remember staring at my hands on the keyboard and thinking, ‘wow, I really do love her.’” He leaned against the sofa cushions and ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it a bit. “I didn’t want to hold back then. You asked me to sleep with you, but you were shaking, you were so scared, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And then you chose models for the music video and I thought, ‘she doesn’t care if I’m with another girl.’ That really hurt.”

Rose thought back to that time, when he’d sent her home after she practically threw herself at him, and then when he’d looked so troubled, so sad, at her pitch for the video. Knowing how he felt now, she felt silly for worrying. He might not have started out with the intention of getting into a relationship with her, but it was obvious now that he loved her so much.

He tilted his head, lifting an eyebrow at her. “What about you? When did you fall in love with me?”

“Don’t you know?” she asked, grinning. She leaned in to whisper in his ear, “The moment I first saw you, of course.”

He grabbed her around the waist and tugged her into his lap, capturing her lips with his own. Rose’s mind was full of the Doctor - stepping out of his expensive blue car, pulling off his sunglasses, giving her that first look with those deep chocolate brown eyes. She hadn’t known then, but she was well aware now, that her heart had already skipped a beat in an attempt to sync up with his.

\---

The next round of photography began the following day, with the entire band in attendance. Lazarus alternated from individual shots to group shots and also different pairs and trios. Donna had been reluctant at first, given all that she’d heard about the photographer from the Doctor and Rose, and her first set of shots had been noticeably stiff, her face tense. Then Lazarus cracked a joke about a man getting hit in the head with a can of soda, which was so bad that Donna had to laugh. He showed her the shot of her laughing and told her how beautiful she was when she let her guard down. She was so flattered that, having seen the proof with her own eyes, the rest of her shoot went smoothly.

The photographer kept up a fast pace, switching band members in and out of sets as the inspiration took him. The Doctor had trouble hiding his yawns, having stayed up late the night before (to help ‘inspire’ Rose). One of Lazarus’s assistants handed him a cardboard cup of coffee, which he gratefully accepted. It was just cool enough for him to down easily before he was called up again.

A few minutes later, Lazarus stopped the shoot. “Did you just eat or drink something?” he asked, looking to the Doctor over the camera.

“Uh, yeah, I had a coffee,” the Doctor answered.

Lazarus indicated his own teeth. “I can tell and so can the camera.” He tilted his head toward the dressing rooms. “Take a break and go brush, I can work with the others until you’re ready.”

The Doctor didn’t wait to be told again and ambled off toward his private dressing room. He still wasn’t feeling very well, so he was glad to have a little break. Aside from not getting enough sleep, maybe he needed some water or was starting to get a cold, his sinuses seemed to be running for no reason and he sniffed, running his hand under his nose.

Closing the dressing room door behind him, he headed for the ensuite at the back of the room where a cheap, disposable toothbrush waited, but stumbled when his vision suddenly blurred. He staggered dizzily, catching himself on the edge of the makeup table.

He grunted, a wave of arousal surging up through his body. “What--?” he mumbled, unable to complete the sentence, feeling drunk. No, feeling _drugged._ He grit his teeth as his cock pulsed, hard and heavy, against the too-rough, too-tight fabric of his pants. His knees wobbled and he fell to one elbow on the table, hunched over it, as he palmed himself through his trousers, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. It wasn’t enough, he knew even as his head swam, the friction was all wrong. He had to get out of his clothes, he needed-- needed--

He looked up as the door quickly opened and shut and it took him a moment to focus on the girl standing there in a short, silky robe. She had dark hair and eyes, a saucy little mouth, and he thought he knew her as one of the assistants. He stared as she removed the robe, revealing that she was completely nude beneath.

“Well?” she said, expectantly. “I’m all yours.” Moving closer, she gathered him into her arms, her body sliding sinuously over his. “What’s wrong? Don’t you want me?”

And that was the problem. Because, in his drugged state, he did. _Very_ much.

\---

Lazarus called for a break so that the sets could be changed and Rose glanced at her watch. The Doctor had been gone for over five minutes and she knew he didn’t need that long to brush his teeth. What was he doing? Flossing?

“Rose.”

She looked up to see Lazarus smiling down at her and tried to ignore the way her skin crawled. “Yes?”

“The show’s about to start. Want to have a look?” He grabbed her hand and pulled her in the direction of the wardrobe room without waiting for an answer.

“Hey, no, I want to go find the Doctor,” she protested, trying to twist her wrist out of his grasp.

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you where he is,” Lazarus said, pushing Rose down into a chair in front of a small television set, which he flipped on with a remote. “And what he’s really like.”

The screen showed a somewhat grainy image of a naked woman holding the Doctor in her arms. His cheeks were flushed red and he blinked eyes that were dark and heavy-lidded. She recognized that look. For once, it chilled her down to her toes.

“See, Rose?” said Lazarus, a satisfied grin on his face. “He’s not special. He’s just like any other man. A total dog, ruled by his baser urges.”

“No!” she said, turning away from the live feed to glare at Lazarus. “You did something to him! He wouldn’t do this!”

The photographer smirked. “Riiiiight. I _made_ him want to sleep with an attractive woman. Your naïveté is cute, sweetheart, but all men can separate love and sex. The proof is right in front of you.”

She made a grab for the remote in his hand, but he easily held it away from her. “Turn it off,” she spat. “I _know_ he isn’t like this!”

When she tried to get up out of the chair, he tossed the remote away and clamped his hands on her shoulders, bodily setting her back down in the seat. “Watch,” he commanded, gripping her chin and turning her face to the screen. The woman was touching _her_ Doctor, unbuttoning his shirt and pressing kisses to the skin she exposed. “Watch your lover fuck someone else.”

“Let me go!” she cried, struggling against his tight grip on her shoulder and face. “I don’t want to see this!”

“He’s just another man, Rose,” Lazarus said, insistently close, his voice right in her ear. “Just a man, like I am. Weak, controlled by his desires.” She looked on in horror as the Doctor’s hands caressed the woman’s back, his eyes falling shut on a groan. “Can you still love him? What are you feeling right now? Pain? Disgust? Can you really call what you’re feeling now ‘love’?”

“Stop!” Rose closed her eyes, blocking out the sight of the television, but her mind unhelpfully supplied its own cruel images. She sagged against Lazarus’s grasp, the fight going out of her. “Please… stop…”

Her eyes popped open as she heard a thud come from the video feed. The Doctor had shoved the woman up against the wall. _Oh, no,_ she thought, miserably. Was he really going to--?

The Doctor lifted his head. He was panting, his eyes still unfocused, but when he spoke, his voice was startlingly clear. “Sorry, lady. Party’s over.”

Rose and Lazarus froze as the Doctor pushed away from the naked woman, staggering to the other side of the room. The woman straightened, an indignant look on her face.

“What are you talking about?” she demanded. “Don’t you want me?”

“Sure I do,” he said without looking at her, running a hand over his damp forehead. “Men are animals. We take it wherever we can get it.” He swallowed, his dry lips parted, his tongue thick in his mouth. He wasn’t able to form elegant sentences in his affected state, but he tried hard to focus, to get his message across. “But I have… something I want more. Something I don’t want to lose. When you have what I do, you don’t trade it all in for a quick fuck from a hired hand. Even if I am an animal.”

Lazarus was struck dumb, just staring at the television, and Rose seized the opportunity to jerk herself out of his faltering grip and run out of the room. He called after her, but of course she didn’t stop. She knew the Doctor wouldn’t do that to her. No matter what.

The dark-haired girl flounced out of the dressing room, the robe wrapped around herself, and stalked past Rose in a huff. “Jesus,” she muttered as she tightened the sash around her waist. “You’ve _got_ to be kidding me!”

Rose ignored her and headed straight into the dressing room. “Doctor?” she ventured as she closed the door behind her.

“Stay back!” he ordered, startling her into stillness. He was hunched over the makeup table, leaning on both elbows, breathing hard. When he looked over his shoulder at her, she could see how dilated his pupils were, swallowing the warm brown with black, and how red his nose and cheeks were. “Stay away from me,” he gritted out.

“Why?”

He swallowed thickly and shook his head. “I might… do something. I can’t c-control…” He groaned, and it sounded more like pain than arousal this time. He squeezed his eyes shut. “I might hurt you,” he finally rasped.

Rose’s heart thudded in her chest, so worried for him, but not afraid at all. She knew the Doctor could never truly hurt her. She eyed the room until she spotted what she was looking for - the potted plant in the corner. It was the work of a few seconds to locate the small video camera and to shut it down. Turning back to the Doctor, she shrugged out of her hoodie as she closed the distance between them. He stumbled back a step, trying to keep away, but she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him fast.

“Go ahead,” she murmured. “Do your worst.”

His hands buried themselves in her hair at once. It felt like the softest silk to him. “Rose, I’m serious,” he said, urgently, but she stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him, cutting off the rest of his protest.

Going from recipient to aggressor at once, he cupped the back of her head in his hands and changed the angle. His tongue surged into her mouth, devouring her kiss. His body moved restlessly against hers and a hungry, throaty moan rumbled out through his nose. His hands traveled down her body, cupping her arse and lifting her up against him. He was ripping at the zipper of her jeans in the next moment and she was sure a seam somewhere popped as he thrust one hand beneath her knickers.

He fingered her clit rapidly, without finesse, as he continued to rut his thick erection against her thigh. “I won’t-- won’t be able to stop,” he warned. “I don’t… know what I’ll--”

“It’s okay,” she assured him.

Her jeans and knickers were still hanging off one leg when he hoisted her up onto the edge of the makeup table. She didn’t feel as ready as she normally did when they made love, but when he thrust inside her, there was just enough wetness to ensure she wasn’t too uncomfortable. She silently thanked her own body for readying itself under duress.

She kept her eyes on the Doctor as he thrust home again and again, hard and fast, enough to shake the mirror she was leaning against. His hands were tight on her hip and waist, holding her still, practically holding her down to take the onslaught. His eyes were shut tight, his brow furrowed in concentration. Their bodies slapped together as he sought fast release. He didn’t try to make it good for her, didn’t wait to make sure she came first; this was hard, selfish fucking, driven by whatever drug he’d been given. It was only a few minutes until he came, but when he pulled out of her, she saw that his cock was as hard as ever, glistening with their combined fluids and pulsing in time with his racing heartbeat.

He didn’t stop there. He grabbed her and pulled her off the table, only to turn her around and push her back down onto it, lifting one of her legs to the table’s surface, spreading her wide open. She had no time to feel embarrassed over being so exposed to him, he was right behind her almost at once, filling her a second time, his lips next to her ear, grunting like the animal he’d claimed to be on every thrust.

It was as violent as he’d ever been with her. But as coarse as it was, there was still a beauty in it. He’d never let go like that before, releasing his most vulgar side to her. Even when he shocked her by fingering her anus with a finger slick with saliva, she didn’t care what he did to her in that state. She loved him, all of him.

“You’re-- so tight-- back here,” he panted, his finger inside her up to his first knuckle. Her insides clenched as he slowly moved it in further. The intrusion wasn’t entirely unpleasant, as long as she tried to relax, but it was difficult. She’d never done this before. “I can-- feel myself-- fucking you,” he said, his breath gusting over her ear, making her shiver. “It’s… amazing.”

As he began moving his finger in and out of her anus, with more control than she anticipated him capable of at the moment, the myriad of sensations all rushed together, forcing her into a surprised orgasm. He moaned gruffly as her spasming walls milked his own release from him, but he still didn’t stop. Fluids dripped down her leg, and the Doctor just kept moving.

\---

“I… Doctor, please,” Rose gasped, trying to catch her breath. Her skin was hot and slick, she was draped over the dressing room’s small couch, unable to find the strength to hold herself up anymore. Her jeans and knickers had finally been removed, and though she still had on her bra and shirt, they were both rucked up to her neck. Blinking, she squinted to focus on the clock hanging above the door. “It’s been… hours…” She was surprised no one had come looking for them.

“Not yet,” he rasped, sweat from his face dripping onto her back.

They’d both lost count of how many times they’d orgasmed. Her back arched as he pulled yet another one out of her, making her muscles seize and shake. She tried to reach up to brush her hair out of her eyes, but her limbs felt like overcooked pasta and kilos heavier than normal. Lights were flashing around the edges of her vision. Everything was fading…

The Doctor’s face was the last thing she saw before drifting into unconsciousness. Reaching out with a shaking hand, he gently traced her cheek, even as his body continued to move relentlessly against her.

\---

Lazarus checked his watch and scowled. He’d shot around the Doctor as much as he could, but after two hours, his absence could no longer be avoided. The whole photography team had been on break ever since. It wasn’t as if he could interrupt the tryst he knew was taking place in the dressing room, the Doctor would be useless as a model until the drugs wore off. The photographer had no choice but to wait.

“Mr. Lazarus?” one of his assistants ventured. “Are we going to finish the shoot today? It’s been three hours. What are we waiting for?”

Before he could respond, the door he’d been keeping an eye on clicked open and the Doctor emerged with Rose, sleeping in his arms, her head nestled on his shoulder. She was dressed in his long button-down shirt which was large enough to cover her somewhat modestly, while he wore only his trousers. His hair was weighted down with sweat, his fringe falling over his forehead, his camera-ready makeup had long since melted off. He looked beat… but extremely satisfied, if the smile on his face was anything to go by.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, cheekily. He paused, tilting his head at Lazarus and lifting his eyebrows apologetically. “Oh, wait, was I supposed to leave some for you?” He grinned and shook his head. “Look, I appreciate you trying to help, but I don’t need drugs to get my dick hard.”

“Oh, really?” said Lazarus. His tone was light, but his face could have been carved from granite. “My mistake.”

The Doctor shrugged. “Yeah, well. I understand that as you get older these things happen. I guess a guy like you has trouble keeping up.” He moved past the other man, heading for the lift. “I’m done for today. Sorry I didn’t leave any for you. Seriously, though, thanks. That was _great.”_

“There’s something that I don’t understand,” said Lazarus, calling after him. “Why would you limit yourself to one girl? I was trying to do you a favor here, to show you the real world. This puppy-love crap you’ve immersed yourself in is for kids.”

The Doctor paused and half-turned back to look at the photographer. “Girl? Kids?” He huffed out a breath and shook his head in pity. “You must be a pretty miserable human being, eh?” He lifted Rose up a little closer in his arms. “First of all, this is not a girl. Rose is _all_ woman. And an amazing one at that. B, no, wait… second, neither of us are kids. Third, or C, do you have any _idea_ how hot it is to fuck the woman you love? Every other piece of ass you’ve ever had pales in comparison.” He eyed the other man up and down dismissively before turning back to the lift and pressing the down button with his elbow, speaking over his shoulder. “But since you’re not capable of love, you’ll probably never know. And you’ll _never_ capture that look in a photograph,” he said, just before the lift doors shut.


	24. Book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The photobook is done, and Lazarus has his own agenda to fulfill before he says a final farewell to the project and Paradox.

Rose slept late the next day, her body definitely needed the recovery time, and only awakened when her phone trilled on the bedside table next to her. A text from the Doctor asked her to meet him downtown in an hour. With a slight wince of residual soreness, she stumbled out of bed to hurry through her shower and preparations. He was already waiting for her by the time she exited the tube station, he looked absolutely delectable in his long tan overcoat and a knitted forest green scarf around his neck.

“Sorry, were you waiting long?” she asked, jogging over to him.

“Yes.”

She felt her cheeks warm in embarrassment. “Ugh, I thought I was more or less on time…” She knew she could have been there sooner, but she didn’t like going out with him unless she was sure her hair and makeup was spot on. It felt narcissistic, but as a rock star’s girlfriend, she never knew who was going to take her picture or when.

He grinned and booped her nose. “I’m kidding. I just got here myself.” He chuckled when she made a face at him for his deception and then playfully smacked him in the arm. “I only have two hours, but do you want to go somewhere?”

Her face lit up. They hadn’t had a date in ages. Even two hours together sounded wonderful. “Sure!”

He took her hand and looped it around his arm, holding it at the crook of his elbow. She smiled up at him as he escorted her down the sidewalk, like an elegant gentleman and his lady. “You’re acting different today,” she observed.

He ducked his head slightly, his freckles standing out against the sudden pink in his cheeks. “I’m trying to make it up to you. Because of the other day, when I… did things… to you.”

Rose’s off-white peacoat was instantly too warm for her as she recalled those ‘things’ he was referring to. She pulled at her collar and tried not to think about how red her face had to be. “Oh… well… I’m fine! I’m not upset about it or anything!”

“Rose, you passed out,” he said, bringing her closer to nuzzle the top of her head with his nose and give her hair a little kiss. “That’s why today is Doctor-Spoils-Rose Day. You might as well just enjoy it.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder with a sigh. It wasn’t as if the incident at the photoshoot had been his fault, but if she could relieve some of his misplaced guilt by getting spoiled a little, well… she supposed he was right. She should just enjoy herself.

\---

The Doctor stared at her as they settled themselves side by side on a park bench, greasy cones of newsprint in their hands, full of steaming fish and chips. He thought she would ask him to take her out to a restaurant, somewhere nice. Instead, she’d led him to one of her favorite chippies and then to a park. “You really enjoy everyday people type stuff, eh?” he said as she selected a piece of battered fish to eat.

“As much as anyone, I suppose,” she answered. “This is just _one_ fantasy of mine. Sharing fish and chips on a park bench. It seemed so romantic when--” Her sentence cut off in a sneeze and she buried her face against her arm to stifle it.

He snickered and pulled the scarf from his neck, settling it on her shoulders. “How about you fantasize that you don’t catch a cold, hm?”

She smiled, setting her cone of food carefully next to her on the bench so she could wrap the scarf around herself better. Hunching her shoulders a bit, she dipped her nose into the cocoon of fabric, already warmed from his body, inhaling his scent. Sandalwood, with a hint of sweet caramel. Her favorite smell in the world, bringing with it dozens of memories.

This was even better than her fantasy. Just the two of them in the park, snuggling on a bench, talking about nothing while eating fish and chips, not worrying about anything… They should make Doctor-Spoils-Rose Day a tradition. Even the few people at the park who saw them together left them alone, as if knowing that this was their private time. It was perfect.

At least until a couple of pigeons decided to hop up on the bench and peck a few chips out of the cone she’d left unattended. “Oi! You flying rats!” she shrieked, waving her arms to chase them off. “Those were my chips!” she lamented, looking at the rest of the delicious fried potatoes sitting there and knowing she wouldn’t be able to touch them now that the birds had gotten into them.

“Rose, they’re just chips,” said the Doctor, popping another piece of fish in his mouth as he leaned back against the bench, the rest of his food protectively in his hands.

“I know, but…” She didn’t want to tell him that there was another part to her fantasy, where he fed her chips by holding each one in his mouth and she ate them in little bites until she got to his lips… Complaining about the pigeons for the sake of something so trivial (yet so important!) seemed childish to her. Still, she couldn’t help exclaiming in dismay when the Doctor tossed a few of his own chips to the gathering birds.

He laughed amid the flurry of flapping grey wings, opening his mouth wide and throwing his head back. His laugh rang across the park, so open and honest, unlike the sexy chuckles he more often gave. This was the Doctor’s _real_ laugh and Rose loved it. “You’re so adorable,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “I just _have_ to tease you!”

“You’re not being nice,” she said, pouting despite herself. “You said you were going to be nice to me today!”

“No, I didn’t,” he argued. “I said I would spoil you. I didn’t say anything about being nice!”

Seeing the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes made her smile back at him. She couldn’t stay mad when he was so happy, so unguarded with her. There were more chips to be had in the world. But moments like these were precious. There were so many Doctors wrapped up in him, so many different sides she’d seen, and she knew without a doubt that all of them loved her.

Together, they fed the rest of Rose’s chips to the congregation of pigeons before the Doctor had to go back to work. It wasn’t _exactly_ her fantasy, but they had the rest of their lives to act on it, and find a few more.

\---

Lazarus sat across from Van Statten, sipping a cup of tea, as the manager flipped through the proofs of the photos the photographer had chosen for the book. Lazarus had the right to choose the best photos, but Van Statten and the band still had final say on what was printed.

“Wow, these are all amazing, you’ve certainly lived up to your reputation,” he commented, pausing to stare at a particular picture. “Jesus, even _I’d_ fuck him in this one.”

Lazarus coughed awkwardly, but said nothing.

Van Statten reached the bottom of the pile and froze. “Where did you get this?” he asked, holding up the final picture.

“Ah, that,” Lazarus said with a smile, setting his teacup aside. “We’re not going to tell the band we’re using that one.”

“Come again?” Van Statten narrowed his eyes at the photographer. “You expect to include this shot in the book without running it by the Doctor?”

“Didn’t I save the best for last?” Lazarus asked, still smiling confidently. “You hired me to create buzz, didn’t you? This is me, giving you your buzz. But as a photographer, not as some PR hack.” He took the photo and laid it down on top of the others, tapping the edge with one finger. “I am the artist here. And I am telling you, this is the photo I need at the heart of this book.”

Van Statten hesitated, looking between the photographer and his work, then sighed. “Fine. I won’t show him.”

“I knew you’d understand.”

\---

Rose and the members of Paradox crowded around the conference room table, all trying to see the photo proofs at once. Van Statten stood back, unwilling to lose a hand in the process. They scrambled with getting the pictures out of the box, eagerly passing them around.

“They’re beautiful!” exclaimed Donna, gaping at a picture of herself in a multi-colored fringed dress. It seemed to move even as she looked at it, the effect was stunning.

“Are you sure this is me?” asked Rory, looking at one of himself in a haute couture feathered ensemble. He looked like a professional model, his blue eyes wide and haunting.

“Of course _I_ look good,” said Jack with a wink, “but these are some of the best shots of you I’ve ever seen, Doc.”

“You think so?” asked the Doctor.

“Even the one of him doused in maple syrup?” asked Mickey. “Because I had my doubts about that one.”

Rose was holding the picture in question and sure enough, it was especially hot. It made her want to leap into the frame and start licking the sticky substance off of him. She’d had her doubts, too, not just about the creative directing, but the photos were all amazing. Lazarus had nailed it. He’d captured their essence in two-dimensional arrangements of color, line, and light. He brought the still images to life. She had to admit the photographer really was a genius.

“Well, if you’re all happy with them, I can have them sent off to the printer,” said Van Statten.

“Is this all of them?” asked the Doctor over his shoulder as he grabbed another proof from Jack.

“Ah, yep. Absolutely,” the manager answered, absently wiping his bald head with a handkerchief. “Why? Is there a problem?”

“Nope,” the Doctor said, cheerfully popping his ‘p.’ “They all look great. Just wanted to make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

“Okay,” Van Statten said, his smile a little too relieved. “Then it’s settled. I’ll take care of the rest. I expect all of you to be at the release party next week!”

Rose gave a little sigh as she set the group of pictures she held back down on the table. “At least this means we won’t have to deal with Lazarus anymore,” she said to the Doctor. The thought lifted a weight off her shoulders, she was thoroughly sick of the sleazebag.

“He’ll be at the release party,” the Doctor reminded her. “But after that… yeah. Hopefully, he’ll stay gone.”

\---

The release party was a fairly big event, held in the grand ballroom of an upscale hotel, with everyone who worked on the photo book in attendance along with the many members of the press. Rose was sure her cheeks were going to be sore from all the smiling she had to do and wondered how the Doctor did it with such ease. Lazarus was asked to give a little speech and the band listened to him lie through his teeth about how he’d had his eye on Paradox for a while and the project ‘just happened’ to come along at the right time.

“I hope you’ll agree,” Lazarus said in closing, “that we have put together a book the like of which Paradox fans have never seen before.”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes slightly and declined to join in the applause as the photographer stepped away from the microphone. It wasn’t the right moment to find out if Lazarus was up to something. A confrontation in front of so many reporters would have a lot of bad fall-out. He kept his thoughts to himself and tightened his hold on Rose’s hip, steering her toward a group of presenters, and away from Lazarus.

She stayed with the Doctor for over an hour, nursing a glass of white wine, and listening to the various people ask him questions. When Rose grew tired of all the noise, she excused herself and stepped onto the veranda outside the ballroom. She leaned against the balustrade and took in a deep breath of cool night air. The whole band was occupied, talking up the book to the members of the media, which she knew was necessary, but she was utterly bored. She wondered if the Doctor would pout if she asked to go home early.

“Finally on your own, I see.”

Rose tensed as the voice she least wanted to hear cut through her peaceful moment. She turned to see Lazarus standing in the doorway, blocking off her exit back into the ballroom. Her lips tightened as she glared at him.

“Is the Doctor neglecting you as he services the press?” he asked, grinning around his own innuendo. “I’m afraid schmoozing it up comes with being famous, my dear.”

“I’m not your ‘dear,’” she snapped. “Go away and leave me alone!”

He tilted his head, thrusting out his lower lip in an exaggerated show of sympathy. “Aww, are you still mad about that little incident with the Doctor’s coffee?” He dropped the facade and leered at her. “I think you should thank me. It looked like you had a marvelous time.” He stepped closer, leaning deliberately into her personal space. “It _was_ good, wasn’t it? What was he like? Rougher than usual? Uninhibited?”

Anticipating his move, she ducked quickly to the side when he made a grab for her. “You stay away from me!” she said, keeping her voice low to avoid notice, but her flashing eyes left no doubt of how serious she was. “You think you know what I like, you think you and the Doctor are the same, but you have _no_ idea! The Doctor isn’t a brute and a sleaze!”

Lazarus glared at her, and for a moment, Rose thought he might retaliate against her harsh words, but then he straightened and gave her a cold smile. “Doesn’t matter,” he said, adjusting his tie. “I’ve already had the last laugh.”

“What are you talking about?”

He lifted his eyebrows. “The book.” His smile turned calculating. “Tell me, are you as excited about it as I am?”

Rose’s eyes widened as she realized what he meant. “What did you do?” she asked, her voice squeezed into a tight whisper.

“Nothing you or the Doctor can do anything about,” he said. “It’s already gone to print. Preview copies are being shipped as we speak. In fact, I’ve already got mine. I brought it tonight to show the press.”

“You sabotaged it.” She swayed slightly, feeling weak in the knees. “All this because I wouldn’t model for you?” she asked, miserably. It seemed like all she did was cause trouble for the Doctor.

“Lazarus!”

Rose whipped around to see the Doctor standing in the doorway, his eyes fixed over her head at the photographer behind her. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw him holding a large, glossy, hardcover book in his hand. He’d seen it. Whatever it was, the Doctor knew. She shifted to look back at Lazarus, who hadn’t moved and didn’t look concerned in the least.

“So, what do you think?” he asked. “I stand by every page of that book.”

The Doctor quirked a half-smile and held the book out for Lazarus to take. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” Rose repeated, incredulously. She grabbed the book out of the Doctor’s hands and flipped furiously through the pages, skipping over the images she’d seen from the proofs. It had to be in there somewhere, had the Doctor actually not seen it--?

She gasped slightly as she came to the centerfold picture. There, across the two page spread was a close up of the Doctor and herself! Sun-dappled green leaves were slightly out of focus in the background and gray feathers were drifting around the two of them. Rose was smiling and the Doctor was laughing, _really_ laughing, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

“But… this is just us at the park,” she said, confused. The Doctor-Spoils-Rose date. The pigeons flying everywhere. “Why would you--”

“I wanted to capture that smile of yours again,” said Lazarus. “And I did. So there’s no more unfinished business. And I did you one better. Not just one smile, but two. You have to admit… it’s rather beautiful.”

Rose stared down at the picture. They’d been so wrapped up in each other, they must have not noticed anyone spying on them. She focused on the Doctor’s face, on how happy he looked. A moment of unguarded, innocent pleasure.

“He only gets that look around you,” Lazarus said, as if knowing what she was thinking. “That is a face his fans have _never_ seen.”

“That was private,” she said, closing the book, but her words held only mild irritation. The deed was already done, there was no sense getting angry.

“I suppose I _did_ steal something from you, in a way,” the photographer admitted as he took the book from her, though he didn’t seem repentant at all. “But I like to think of it as taking from the rich to give to the poor. Anyway, I had to. Because capturing a moment like that…” He took a breath and shook his head slightly, his face full of pride. “Well, that’s what photographers live for.”

Rose’s mouth parted slightly as she finally came to understand what Lazarus was at his core. He served his art at any price. It had all been about getting that shot, whatever it took. It was mad, but then, most artists are. And she certainly couldn’t argue with that photograph. It captured the Doctor’s heart.

Lazarus angled his chin at the Doctor. “So, you’re not angry, then?”

The Doctor chuckled and wrapped his arm around Rose’s waist, pulling her back toward the ballroom. “Like I said,” he tossed over his shoulder, “not bad.”

\---

“No way! They’ve still got a copy of _Perfect Ten!”_

Rose paused in her search for new music to inspire her and looked up. From where she stood in the CD section of the media store, she could see two young girls, one of them holding a copy of Paradox’s photo book.

“Oh, my God, I thought it was sold out everywhere!”

“You’ve seen the ‘smile’ shot, right? I thought I would _die!”_

“But isn’t he on a date with some girl in it?”

“Noooo, they wouldn’t put that in a book, she’s got to be a model.”

Rose smiled to herself and bit her lip to avoid laughing.

“Oh, no, they’ve only got one copy!”

“I want it!”

“Rock, paper, scissors for it?”

With a little chuckle, Rose turned and left the store without buying anything. She and the Doctor had gone through a lot because of Lazarus, but all things considered, she thought things had turned out pretty well. Even so, she was glad they never had to deal with him again. No amount of buzz was worth that man and his buckets of crazy.

\---

Rose knew she was lucky. She was one of those people who honestly loved her job. How many people could say that fantasizing about their boyfriend was a real part of their work? She would start by closing her eyes and picturing him. In a suit, in jeans and a t-shirt, in the sexy glamorous clothes he wore on stage, or, more often, in nothing at all. She could hear his voice in her head, low and seductive, and then she could almost feel him touching her, mere whispers of fingertips on her heated skin. When she put those sensations he awakened in her into words, her fantasies became phrases that the Doctor would give breath to.

And if she didn’t quite nail the lyrics on the first try, the Doctor would come to her and make good on his promise to let her use his body for inspiration. But they wouldn’t actually make love until she wrote something useable. It was almost cruel, the way he would tease her, stroking her body and kissing her, rutting against her, but backing off before she could crest over the top.

“Doctor, please!” she begged, panting with need.

“Please, what, Rose?” he answered. “Say it. Put it into _words.”_

No one knew what went on behind the lyrics. It was the price she paid as Paradox’s lyricist.

The Doctor smiled down at the notepad, much _much_ later, apprising the work that had come out of their latest teasing session. “These are a lot better,” he said, scooting across the sofa to gather her into his arms. “You’ve earned a reward!”

She turned her face away. “I don’t want one!”

“What?” He blinked, sitting back a little. “You don’t want me?”

“No,” she said, stubbornly, crossing her arms.

His brows furrowed slightly before he grabbed her and hauled her over his shoulder as he stood up, heading for the bedroom. “I don’t believe you,” he said as she flailed her arms behind him.

“Put me down!”

He put her on the bed, but followed her down, covering her body with his own. “You’re mad at me for not letting you come earlier, is that it?”

She didn’t answer, but pursed her lips in annoyance.

“You’re not the only one who finds teasing torturous, Rose,” he said. Shifting his hips, he slid his bulge against the seam of her jeans, letting her feel how hard he was. Despite herself, she moaned. “I’ve been like this the whole time. I don’t go off and have a wank while you’re writing. I have to wait, too.”

Her heart thudded as he leaned down, his face filling her line of vision until her eyes fluttered shut at the first touch of his lips. She wished, just once, she could resist him. But those amber eyes of his saw right through her, saw how much she wanted him. One kiss and she was soft and pliant in his arms, her resolve utterly crumbled. She’d wanted to punish him a little for teasing her and leaving her high and dry. She’d been so focused on how _she_ felt as she wrote the lyrics, it hadn’t occurred to her how hard it was for him. Literally.

She knew when she saw the look on his face when he came, that dizzy look of blissful completion, and again when he held her and kissed her afterward, telling her how brilliant she was and how he loved her. She knew she wanted to keep writing his lyrics forever, no matter what torture would come. That was just a part of their life.

Had they really only been living together for six months? When had this crazy rockstar life become so normal for her?


	25. Global

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paradox is going global, so Kasterborous brings in a new producer for the band.

The start of next week brought with it a shock. Kasterborous was taking Paradox global and they’d assigned the band a new producer to do it. The woman at the head of the conference table had sharp brown eyes and natural blonde hair cut into a business-like bob. She wore a plain navy skirt suit and black shoes with a sensible heel. Everything about her was understated, but spoke of quality and functionality. Even her movements were economical as she passed around dossiers of paperwork. She wasted no efforts, no matter how small.

Van Statten introduced her as Kate Stewart. She was a Harvard graduate and had previously developed Chang Lee, who was now a huge star in America. Everyone at the table regarded her with an air of respect, and she accepted it like someone accustomed to it.

“Good to meet you all,” she said as the manager finished his introduction. “With me at the helm, Paradox has limitless global potential. You’re going to be the next British Invasion, if I have anything to say about it. Let’s not waste anymore time and get started.” She indicated the dossiers and everyone opened to the first page. “The diagram you’re looking at is Paradox’s new set. Four small stages will be placed on each side of the main stage, connected by runways. We’ll seat roughly seventy thousand people around each stage.”

The band took a collective breath. They’d never performed for so many people in one go. Kate smiled.

“This is the big time, kids. Three hundred thousand people at one show. The American press will have no choice but to notice you.”

Rose bit down on her bottom lip. Three hundred thousand was five times bigger than Paradox’s largest show. She thought about the performances she’d gone to, the excitement of the crowd. They all came because they wanted to be close to the band, and she knew it was why so many people hated her. Because she crossed the line the fans never get to cross, Rose didn’t just get to breathe the same air as the Doctor, she got to touch him, too.

“Wait,” said Rose, half raising her hand to interrupt the meeting. Kate stopped her explanation and looked at her with eyebrows raised. “I don’t think the fans will like bigger concerts. They want to really _feel_ Paradox, they want to be as close to the band as they can. If it’s big enough for three hundred thousand, they’ll barely be able to see! That’s not what they want. Please, don’t put any more distance between Paradox and the people who made them what they are.”

Kate didn’t speak for a moment and gave Rose a long blink. “Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll bear that in mind as one person’s opinion.” She turned to the next page in the dossier. “Moving on… The new single and the commercial tie-in…”

Rose fidgeted with her fingers underneath the table as the meeting continued. Had she spoken out of turn? She’d only said what she felt was true. Smaller venues were more fun anyway, it was easier to interact with the audience. Fans didn’t want to go to a concert where the band was nothing but far away dots on a stage, right?

\---

Kate pulled the Doctor aside after the meeting. She’d tried to talk to Van Statten about Rose’s presence with the band, but he’d told her to talk to the Doctor about it. Feeling like she had a possible ‘Yoko’ situation, she suggested that Rose not come to anymore staff meetings.

“I don’t see any other significant others around the table,” she said, pointedly. “Do we really need to have an amateur here?”

“I know that she doesn’t see the band from a business perspective,” said the Doctor, “but Rose knows what the fans want. And I can tell what she likes just by seeing her eyes light up.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ms. Stewart, but Rose stays. I need to have her close to me.”

Kate frowned. “Don’t give me the big puppy eyes and expect me to fawn all over you,” she warned, but added, “I’ll drop it, for now.”

\---

Rose went home when the band went into the studio. Hours passed and the darkness grew, but the Doctor still hadn’t come home. The new changes to their schedule meant longer hours. The time to herself allowed Rose to think about what ‘going global’ meant for Paradox. It was amazing as a career move, she knew that, but she wondered how many fans actually _wanted_ the band to go global. No matter how close they were able to get to the band, it was never enough. And now, their favorite musicians would be spending time overseas, performing for more people, growing more and more distant. Every year their concerts would get bigger and bigger, more fans at every show. And she and the Doctor were spending more and more time apart, more and more time just waiting. She wondered how Amy and Ianto felt about it. Their love interests weren’t ordinary people with ordinary jobs… maybe this was just how it had to be.

She jolted awake as a pair of warm arms wrapped around her. The Doctor was lifting her off the sofa where she’d fallen asleep waiting for him.

“I should have told you not to wait up,” he said softly as she blinked sleepily at him. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“Doctor,” she murmured as he carried her into the bedroom, “promise me you won’t turn into a stranger when you’re world famous.”

He chuckled. “I promise, for as long as you’ll stay with me.”

“Forever, then.”

He tucked her into her side of the bed and kissed her forehead. “Yep. Forever.”

\---

The next day, the Doctor fulfilled another of Rose’s fantasies by taking her out to see a film. He had to go to work right after, so she had to head home on her own, but it had so been worth it. They’d held hands and kissed in the dark. He’d drawn little designs on the inside of her thigh, the vibrations of his nails scratching the fabric of her jeans sent tingles straight to her core. Just thinking about it made her stomach flutter with butterflies all over again.

She was almost at Their Flat when a car stopped directly in front of her, bringing Rose to an abrupt halt. The driver’s window lowered, revealing Kate’s stern face.

“Get in,” she said, indicating the passenger side with a tilt of her head. “I need to show you something.”

Puzzled, Rose did as the woman said. “Where are we going?” she asked as she fastened her seatbelt.

“We’re going to the Paradox show that the Doctor apparently thought he didn’t need to rehearse for,” said the producer, tightly.

Rose’s eyes widened. She hadn’t known about a show. Had the Doctor kept it from her on purpose so she wouldn’t feel guilty about him skipping rehearsal? She hated causing problems for him. Kate drove without talking, only making Rose feel more awkward. It made the thirty minute drive feel like hours.

“Where are we?” Rose finally asked when Kate slowed and began to navigate through side streets.

“Berkshire,” Kate said. “Reading, to be more specific, but near to Wokingham. A quaint combined population of near five hundred thousand. The show is at the Hexagon.” She pulled into a crowded parking area and stopped the car. “Here we are.”

Rose’s mouth fell slack as she took in the staggering amount of people milling about outside. “It’s about to start, isn’t it?” she asked, checking her watch. “What are they all doing out here?”

Kate gestured to a girl a few feet away who held a cardboard sign that read ‘I need tickets.’ “Even in a burrough this size, seats sell out fast. This theatre only holds twelve hundred people.” She turned to Rose and crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you think these fans are going to do?”

“Um…” Rose shook her head.

“I’ll tell you. They’ll put their ears to the wall, close their eyes, and _wish_ they’d gotten in.”

Rose swallowed hard. Kate painted a grim picture. And she knew it was the truth.

“Do you still want to see Paradox play smaller venues?” Kate asked. “Do you think you’re championing these people? Don’t you know that your very existence _wounds_ the fans you think you’re protecting? You already stole the Doctor from them, what else do you mean to steal?”

Already having thought the same thing herself, Rose ducked her head. “I… didn’t mean to,” was all she could bring herself to say.

“You think you’re fighting for what the fans want, but I can see right through you,” said Kate. “The only person you’re protecting is yourself. The bigger Paradox gets, the further it’s going to take the Doctor, you know that. And having John Noble isn’t enough for you. You want to keep Paradox’s Doctor on a leash as well. Don’t you?”

Rose opened her mouth to say it wasn’t true, but she couldn’t deny that she didn’t want the Doctor growing farther away from her. Kate went on without Rose’s answer.

“Your personal agenda has no place in this business,” she said. “I want you off the team. And if you can’t handle not being part of Paradox’s crew, then I suggest you end the relationship altogether.”

Having made her point, Kate turned to go back to her car. Rose followed her. She knew she could get backstage and go home with the band after the performance, but she wanted the time to herself, to think about what Kate said.

Kate dropped her back off at The Flat without another word. Rose went in and moved into the kitchen to make herself some dinner, despite not really feeling hungry.

She knew Kate was right. She hadn’t been protecting the fans with her plea for smaller shows. She’d been thinking about herself and her relationship with the Doctor. She already saw so little of him, and so much of that time was spent working together. When he went on tour, she wouldn’t see him for a week or more, when he went on location for a video shoot, he’d be gone for at least ten days. Now he had to work late every night. They barely had time to make love anymore, let alone go on dates, but she’d always stayed close to him as a member of the crew. That had been enough.

But the Doctor had skipped rehearsal today to make time for her, proving that her presence was hurtful to the fans, just like Kate said. But to quit her job… to break up with the Doctor… She didn’t think she’d be able to do it.

She’d just pulled on her pajamas to go to bed when she heard the front door open and close. Putting a smile on her face so she wouldn’t worry the Doctor with her troubles, she went to the front room to greet him.

He was in his street clothes, his face scrubbed of all his stage makeup, his hair still artfully tousled from the gig. He slumped into her embrace, resting his head heavily on her shoulder, as he squeezed her tight.

“I’m so tired,” he said, his voice muffled against her.

“I’ll bet,” she said. “How about a shower and then bed?”

“Mmhmm,” he said, then nuzzled the place where her neck met her shoulder. “But I just want to rest here for a little while longer.”

She couldn’t help but smile, her fingers curling into his hair at the nape of his neck.

“No matter how tired I am,” he said, his lips moving against her skin, “no matter what, when I’m close to you like this, it all falls away. And I’m home and it’s all okay.”

Her arms tightened around him. She was proud to be the Doctor’s safe place to land, she wanted to be there for him, always, whenever he needed her. To be his support.

After he had gone to bed, practically falling asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, Rose eased herself out from underneath his arm and went back to the living room with her notebook. If she wanted to continue to be his support, she was going to have to get stronger. If she tried harder, then she wouldn’t have to be separated from him in order for the band to thrive.

\---

Early the next morning, the Doctor woke up to find Rose’s side of the bed empty and cold. Concerned, he got up and found her sacked out on the sofa again. Shaking his head, he went back into the bedroom and grabbed the duvet, which he draped over her.

The resulting gust of air from the blanket settling rattled the pages of her notebook on the coffee table. Curious, the Doctor looked at what she’d been working on all night. Rather than the lyrics he expected to see, there was a detailed business proposition on the page, headed with the title ‘Secret Live Show Proposal.’

Rose had written about performing secret shows at the same time as a large scale tour, but at small clubs that only the local fans would know about. Most of the audience would be the fans that couldn’t get into the real show, the secret shows would be their second chance at seeing the band. The publicity would be flyers and word-of-mouth only. And the band wouldn’t use the name ‘Paradox,’ in the interest of keeping it secret.

After skimming the idea, he smiled and closed the notebook, then leaned down to give Rose’s forehead a kiss. It was the closest he could get to kissing her brilliant brain.

Returning to the bedroom, he headed for the ensuite to get ready for the day ahead. When he left Their Flat, Rose was still asleep.

\---

Rose left Their Flat later than she usually would to head to Kasterborous, the nap she’d intended on taking had turned into several hours of sleep, so she was running into the lobby in order to make it on time. She wanted to see Kate before the band left for the theater tour, Rose needed the producer to see the proposal she’d worked on all night.

“Oi,” said a man wearing the uniform of a security guard, stopping Rose before she could get to the lifts. “Authorized personnel only beyond this point.”

“I _am_ authorized!” Rose said.

“I need to see your pass.”

“I never needed a pass before…” She looked around the guard as the double doors leading outside opened and Van Statten walked into the lobby. Rose’s face lit up. “Mr. Van Statten, this security guard isn’t letting me in.”

The manager looked chagrined. “I’m sorry, Rose, but I can’t help you.”

“What?” she asked.

He put a gentle hand on her shoulder, with a look on his face that showed more sympathy than she believed him capable of. “You’ve been let go.”

“But,” she stuttered, feeling gutted, “why? What happened?”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “It’s Ms. Stewart’s orders. She said you’re out, so you’re not allowed the same access to the Doctor as before. No one’s going to let you in.”

“Well, maybe if you get the Doctor, then he’ll--”

“I can’t do that,” said Van Statten. “Look, Ms. Stewart’s not just another producer. _She_ decided Paradox was going global, _she_ controls their whole schedule now. Paradox can’t make a move without her say-so. Not even the Doctor can stand up to her.”

“Fine,” said Rose, accepting the limitation for the time being. She opened her notebook and ripped the page with her proposal out of it. “Would you give this to him, then? To the Doctor, not to Ms. Stewart. Please? He only has to look at it.”

Van Statten shook his head and patted her shoulder. “Show him when he goes home, eh, Rose? Note passing is for kids. Leave business to the adults.”

The security guard prevented Rose from following Van Statten into the lift and escorted her from the building. With nothing left to do, she turned and headed back home with a sinking heart.

\---

“Where’s Rose?” the Doctor asked Kate when the video shoot had wrapped for the day. They’d been shooting promo material for the theater tour. “I haven’t seen her and she should have been here hours ago.”

“I had her fired,” said Kate, obviously not seeing any point in beating around the bush.

“You did _what?”_ he said, rounding on her. “Who gave you the authority to make such a decision?”

“I did,” she said, not batting an eyelash when he crowded into her space with his eyes blazing. “Paradox is not in the position of taking orders from groupies.”

Narrowing his eyes, rather than lay into her, the Doctor turned to head for the door.

“Now what?” asked Kate. “Going to go fetch her? You can’t mix your love life with business, you can’t get work done with her around, and you’ll never make it to the top if you can’t learn to focus. We can’t cancel a big budget project on the whim of some girl!”

“Hey, Rose works really hard!” said Mickey, stepping up with the other members of the band.

“She thinks about the fans,” added Rory.

“You don’t get it,” said Donna. “The only reason the Doctor can keep this killer schedule of yours is because of her!”

Kate arched an eyebrow at the bandmates, but turned to the Doctor for his response.

His shoulders slumped slightly as he sighed. “Alright,” he said, finally, in a dull voice. “Rose is off the team.”

“What?!” exclaimed Jack.

“John!” admonished Donna, shocked into using her brother’s real name.

“Doctor, you know how hard she works better than anybody,” said Jack.

“How can you just agree to this?” asked Donna.

“Because he’s a professional,” said Kate, smiling.

The Doctor turned back around, frowning. “But in return, you don’t schedule anything after this next theater show. No dinners with promoters, no local radio, nothing.”

Kate furrowed her brow slightly, but agreed to the terms. The band looked at one another uneasily. Cutting Rose out of the Doctor’s life in any way boded ill and they all knew it. Why had he agreed so easily to her being fired?

\---

Since the Doctor was off in another part of Essex for the theater tour that night, Rose saw no harm in having a good cry while she had Their Flat to herself. She hated feeling sorry for herself, but she figured she could leave being brave and a good sport for tomorrow. Tonight, she just wanted to be miserable and cry it out.

Her phone trilled, signalling a text. Checking her phone, she saw that it was the Doctor. _Come to the show,_ it read. Below that was an address in Hatfield. She looked at her watch. If she left now, she’d only catch the encore, but… He’d asked her to come. She couldn’t say no.

To her surprise, the address he’d provided didn’t take her to the Civic Center where the show was taking place. The taxi stopped in front of a small club that was packed with people when she stepped inside.

“What’s going on here?” Rose asked a girl at the back.

“You don’t know?” she said. “Here!”

She handed Rose a photocopied piece of paper with the address of the club and a start time. At the top was the bizarre name, Xodarap, but she suddenly understood what it meant when she read it backwards.

“It’s a secret show,” the girl said, excitedly. “Isn’t that awesome?”

Before Rose could respond, the crowd of fans went wild, screaming and clapping, as the lights went up on the little stage. Her mouth dropped open as Paradox took their places, the Doctor right in front of the lights.

“Hey!” he smiled into the mic. “Welcome to Xodarap! We’re a tribute band, covering a group of sons of bitches calling themselves Paradox or something!” Behind him, the band hid laughs behind their hands or bit their lips to keep from grinning. “We’re gonna make you feel better than the real thing. Are you ready?”

The crowd screamed even louder.

“This is a song from our independent days,” the Doctor began.

“Hey, Xodarap IS independent, spaceman!” said Donna, chucking one of her spare drumsticks at his head.

“Oi, who asked you? Play your damn drums!” he shot back at her, and the audience laughed, but were quickly drowned out by the first strains of _Here to Midnight._

“Oh, my God, they never do this song!” said the girl next to Rose, her voice muffled by the music. “I’m so glad I couldn’t get tickets to their real show!”

“Sorry, where did you get this?” Rose asked her, holding up the flyer.

“What?” said the girl, who then looked at the piece of paper. “Oh, I was standing outside the Civic Center and someone handed it to me.”

Rose couldn’t believe what was happening. Handing out flyers to a secret show for the fans who couldn’t get tickets, playing under a different name… It was just like her idea! Looking around, she could see that the fans were ecstatic, and the Doctor looked like he was having a ball. Despite having already done a show that night, he didn’t look tired, none of the bandmates did.

A wide smile breaking across her lips, Rose began dancing with the others around her. She didn’t know why the band was doing this, but she loved it.

\---

In the small backstage area after the show, the members of ‘Xodarap’ toasted each other with cheap beer bought from the corner store. They’d insisted on the cheap stuff, to make it feel even more like the old days, before they got famous. All five of them were riding high on the success of the night, insisting they needed to do this after the next show as well.

“I have to hand it to you,” said Kate, shaking her head. “That was amazing. You could have told me this is what you wanted to do after the show. It’s a brilliant concept.”

“I want to schedule a series of secret shows throughout the tour,” said the Doctor.

“I don’t have a problem with that,” said Kate. “Handing out flyers to kids without tickets proves that you care. It’s great PR. I like the alternate name idea, too. It’s got buzz-potential. The fans will try to figure out where you’ll be, what name you’ll use.”

He smiled, slyly. “And who do you think came up with the idea?”

Kate frowned slightly but before she could ask what he meant, there came a knock at the backstage door. A crew member poked his head into the room.

“I found her, Doctor,” he said, opening the door to allow Rose to walk in.

“There she is,” said the Doctor, coming over to wrap his arms around her. “Rose is the one who came up with the secret show idea, Ms. Stewart.”

“You read my proposal?” asked Rose, leaning back to look up at him in surprise. “When?”

“The morning after you wrote it.” Looking to Kate, he said, “Ms. Stewart, if I can keep Rose close to me, I promise you I can draw all sorts of good ideas out of her. I’ll prove to you that love isn’t something to work around. It’s a reason to work in the first place.”

Kate sighed and put her hands on her hips. “Fine. Rose is back on the team.” The blonde focused on the woman in the Doctor’s arms, the quick-fire attitude of the consummate professional entering her tone. “We cannot stop playing large-scale shows, however, you’ll be responsible for coming up with events centered around the fans. How does that sound?”

“Fantastic!” said Rose, grinning. She didn’t mind the extra work, she was back on the team where she could be close to the Doctor. She’d step up and work even harder to prove she wasn’t a hindrance to Paradox. That she wanted them to succeed just as much as their new producer.


	26. Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paradox performs for 300,000 people and Rose gets a blast from her past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW!

The band was given the day before the big concert off, in order for them to rest up. Kate stressed to the Doctor that he was to _rest_ and Rose assured her that she wouldn’t let him stay up too late. Jack stifled a laugh at her naïveté and received a similar warning from Kate, referring to Ianto. The guitarist seemed a bit put out that only he and the Doctor were told off.

“Just because Rory doesn’t advertise it,” said Jack, “doesn’t mean he’s not a horndog, too.”

“Rory’s proven himself to be more professional,” said Kate, choosing not to comment on Jack’s American colloquialisms. “His wife is your makeup artist and yet I’ve never had to separate _them_ in order for him to get onstage on time.”

“God, two _different_ incidents and I never hear the end of it,” Jack grumbled, but didn’t say anymore as they all filed out of the conference room to head home.

Rose bustled around The Flat, putting on some soft, ambient music, lighting a lavender scented candle, and making the Doctor a cup of herbal tea. She pushed him down on the sofa and knelt at his feet to remove his shoes for him while he sipped at the mug.

“What are you doing?” he asked, lifting his eyebrow.

“You heard what Ms. Stewart said. You’re supposed to rest, so I’m at your service tonight,” said Rose with a smile. She sat back on her heels and gave his feet a little squeeze. “Would you like a foot rub? Or a back massage? Or I could draw you a bath while I make dinner, or would you like me to go and get something from the store? Anything you like, just name it!”

“Oh, ho, _anything,_ eh?” he said, waggling his eyebrows mischievously. He leaned forward with a little smile and placed the mug of tea on the coffee table. Turning his face towards hers, he said, “Kiss me.”

She blinked. “What?”

His dark eyes held a glimmer of challenge. “Kiss me,” he repeated, a bit slower, sensually wrapping his tongue around the words and drawing her gaze to his full, pink, lower lip.

“You know I can’t do stuff like that tonight,” she said, uncertain. She knew that it wouldn’t just stop with a kiss and Kate had been adamant that the whole band rest themselves.

“You said you’d do _anything_ I want,” he reminded her. Reaching down, he grabbed her wrists and pulled her up onto the sofa with him. When he had her astride his lap, he placed her arms around his neck and settled his own hands at her waist. “I thought you would know by now.” He brushed a strand of hair out of her face and trailed his fingers over her cheek. _“You_ are the source of my power, Rose. Kiss me if you understand.”

Sliding her hands around to his front, she cupped his face, tilting it up slightly as she leaned down to press her lips to his. His mouth chased hers, stretching his neck as he nibbled her lower lip, sucking it briefly into his mouth. She moaned as his tongue masterfully played with hers, knowing exactly how to make her body light up with arousal, but she pulled back slightly when his hands slipped beneath her shirt and up her back to the fastening of her bra.

“Ms. Stewart said you had to _rest,”_ she said. It was a weak argument, but it was the only one she had.

The corner of his mouth twitched, her words doing nothing to stop him from unhooking her bra. The garment came loose and a deep, appreciative rumble issued from his throat as he filled his palms with her breasts, pushing the bra up along with her shirt.

“Rose, this _is_ my rest,” he insisted, leaning forward to bury his face in the valley of her bosom. He pushed her breasts up, surrounding his face, breathing her scent in deeply. His voice was muffled when he added, “This is how I recharge.”

She squirmed helplessly as he placed gentle kisses to the sides and tips of her breasts, then nipping and suckling at each one in turn. She could feel his erection through their jeans, and she couldn’t help moving against his hardness just a bit. He groaned and his hips bucked slightly of their own volition. Her breath caught when he looked up, his freckled cheeks flushed, the pupils of his eyes wide with desire.

With one hand, he gripped her jaw, pulling her face closer for another kiss. “I want to take you to bed,” he said, softly, against her lips.

She knew that, of course, how could she not, but he still waited for her permission. If she was really serious about not having sex because their producer had said so, he wouldn’t take it any further unless Rose gave the go-ahead. She loved him all the more for it, even though he’d deliberately aroused her, stacking the deck in his favor.

She nodded and he swept her up in his arms as he stood from the sofa. She wrapped her legs around his waist, unable to keep from smiling, wondering how many times the Doctor had carried her off to bed since they’d been together, and how many more times they hadn’t even made it there.

The thrill of it had changed. It used to make her stomach swoop, like a scary-exciting rollercoaster. Occasionally, it still felt like that. But more often, like now, she found it soothing, it brought with it a sense of calm, of rightness. If the Doctor found his power in the way their bodies intertwined, then Rose found her peace in it. It was odd, to find peace while she gripped the sheets, her body covered in a fine sheen of sweat, as the Doctor pounded into her, making her reach for new heights each time, but there it was, alongside the overwhelming love she felt.

Peace.

“More,” she gasped, grasping at his shoulders, then running her hands through his hair when he looked up into her heavy-lidded eyes. “Take more.”

He panted, a drop of sweat running from his temple, then bowed his head, dropping kisses along her collarbone and up her neck. His teeth grazed her skin, leaving a red mark or two where he bit her. “How deep do you want me to drown in you?” he asked, breathlessly.

“Deep inside.” He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, changing the angle to thrust into her even deeper, making her cry out and arch her back. “Yes, like that,” she encouraged, fighting to catch enough breath for words. “Please, please…”

_Take more,_ she pleaded, silently, when her voice deserted her. _Take all you need and more. All night. If that’s what it takes._

He dragged one hand along her arm, interlocking their fingers just like their bodies. A perfect fit.

He didn’t stop until she was boneless with pleasure, hovering on an endless wave of euphoria, and then he finally collapsed on top of her. She didn’t mind, her soft curves easily yielded to his more angular body. She brought her heavy arms up around his neck, lazily stroking his damp hair and slick back. His cock was still deep inside her, slowly softening as their combined fluids trickled out of her. She bit her lip on a smile, it made her feel deliciously naughty.

Neither one of them said anything for a long time and she let her eyes drift closed, lulled by his hot, panting breaths on her neck. “I love you,” she murmured at last.

“Mmm,” he said in answer, a deep, happy rumble. “Quite right, too.”

She flicked his wonky ear, earning a chuckle from him. With effort, he raised himself up on his elbows and smiled down at her. He was so beautiful, with sleepy eyes and that just-shagged glow. She was sure that smile of his could make flowers grow.

“I love you, too,” he said, leaning down for a lingering kiss.

\---

“This is it,” said the Doctor. He turned to his bandmates, the tails of his new leather coat flaring out behind him. They all stood beneath the main stage of their biggest concert ever, looking shiny in their brand new wardrobe, made specifically for this event. All around them, they could hear the cheers of the immense audience they would be performing for. “Think we got the balls to rock three hundred thousand people?”

The four other members of Paradox grinned at him. No amount of pre-show butterflies could squelch their collective excitement. Donna twirled a drumstick in one hand. “Let’s raise a little hell, shall we?”

The Doctor nodded to the nearby stage manager, who gave the order for the blackout. The audience screamed and the near-deafening roar sparked fire in the Doctor’s veins. This was the moment he lived for.

The band took their places in the dark and, with a boom of blazing pyrotechnics from the foot of the main stage, the lights went up, revealing Paradox to the crowd as if by magic. The roar of the audience swelled again and the Doctor stretched out his arms to either side, a pagan god accepting his tribute.

Grabbing the mic, he smiled into it. “Are you ready for the night of your lives?”

\---

The show was legendary. They spent an even amount of time on all five stages, beginning and ending on the large main stage. Rose had insisted on watching from the crowd, so she could absorb the electric atmosphere of the fans. Huge projection screens ensured that the entire audience got to see everything, no matter which stage the band was on at the time. The runways between stages were a big hit, as the band members would lean down and touch the hands of the fans as they moved past, resulting in lots of happy screaming and at least one fainting spell. (The girl was fine, she just needed some water, so the show went on.)

Four hours of music, three curtain calls, and a fireworks display to end the show. Not one of them would ever forget that night.

Rose joined them backstage afterward, but hung back with Amy and Ianto while the members of Paradox congratulated each other. She didn’t want to butt in on their moment. But soon enough, the Doctor was looking around, smiling when his eyes came to rest on her.

Her heart thumped, utterly disarmed by that smile, even now. How was it that he could still make her nervous after all this time?

“There you are,” he said, coming over and drawing her into his arms. “Enjoy the show?”

She grinned up at him with her tongue touched to her teeth. “There aren’t words,” she said. “It was more than amazing.”

He preened, puffing his chest out, and she had to laugh, because her opinion still mattered to him, despite how famous he was and how many people loved him. It meant so much to her.

Collectively, they went to pile into the waiting limousine, which would take them to the after-party. All Rose wanted to do was get the Doctor alone for a little private celebration, but she didn’t say as much to him. He would absolutely take her up on her offer and leave right away, and she felt Paradox deserved all the partying they could get after such a massive show. Time together, enjoying a job well done. The whole band was going on vacation starting the next day, so she could wait.

\---

The Doctor had anticipated lots of shagging over their week-long vacation, and until today, he hadn’t been disappointed. He’d even gotten a soft yes from Rose about making Naked Mondays a thing. But then she’d said he needed to take her to a driving school on Wednesday, putting a serious cramp in the shagging schedule.

“I’ve been studying for my driver’s license,” she explained.

“You don’t know how to drive?” he asked, incredulous.

She blushed lightly. “I’ve never needed to drive, living in London. There’s always the tube or a bus or a taxi. But if we’re going to be traveling all over the world as Paradox goes global, I figure I might need to know how to drive myself. I want to be prepared for anything.”

And that was why he was waiting in a small, glassed in area, glancing through an outdated magazine, at the Gear Change driving school, instead of at home, in bed. Rose was out in one of their vehicles, being put through the driving course. This seemed like a waste of time to the Doctor. If she really wanted to learn how to drive, he could have taught her, but she’d insisted on learning from ‘professionals.’

He stood up and put a smile on his face when she came in through the doors along with her instructor, a skinny fellow with messy hair wearing a pair of old-fashioned glasses.

“You’re doing much better, Rose,” the young man said. “You can speed up a little more on the straight-aways. And don’t forget to study the manual for the written test.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I will.”

The Doctor took her hand as they headed for the exit, anxious to resume their vacation. “Anything eventful happen?”

She wrinkled her nose slightly. “He says I have a tendency to move too close to the left and that I shouldn’t be afraid of oncoming traffic. And I--” She stopped dead in her tracks, staring ahead of them, making the Doctor come to a halt as well.

“Rose?” he asked, furrowing his brow slightly.

“Rose _Tyler?”_ repeated an unfamiliar voice.

The Doctor turned to see who had said Rose’s name and found her staring at a man around her age and height, with boyish features, brown eyes and dark hair with a bit of curl to it. He stood just inside the entrance to the building, looking at her as though he couldn’t believe it was really her.

“It’s been a long time,” the pretty boy said. “You look good.”

The Doctor looked back at Rose. “Do you know him?”

“Of course she knows me,” the other man said before she had a chance to reply. He came closer, smiling at her. “I’m her ex-boyfriend.”

“Oi, hold on there,” said Rose, stepping up with a frown on her face. “When was I ever your girlfriend?”

“When I told you how I felt about you,” he said, easily. “You were planning on saying ‘yes,’ weren’t you?”

“That doesn’t matter, you changed your mind!”

“That’s true, but if I hadn’t...?” He let the implication hang in the air, his meaning clear.

The Doctor sighed, already annoyed with the exchange. “Look, what’s your name?”

The young man straightened a bit, squaring his shoulders. “Adam Mitchell.”

He said it like the Doctor should be aware of who he was, but the name didn’t ring any bells for him, nor did he particularly care to hear exactly why this prat thought he was so important. “Okay, Adam. What’s your point here? Are you trying to say you like how she turned out? Thanks. Me, too. Now, if that’s all…” He started to pull Rose past Adam, but they stopped when Adam spoke up again.

“What are you doing with this loser, Rose?” said Adam with a sneer as he appraised the Doctor from the top of his tousled hair to the toes of his chucks. “Has he even been to university? No decent school would have him with that kind of attitude.”

“Adam, you really don’t know who this is?” asked Rose, gesturing to her boyfriend. “The Doctor’s famous--”

“No, Rose, he’s right,” said the Doctor, tilting his head back with a little smile. “No _decent_ uni would take me on my own merits.” He looked directly down at Adam as he rocked back on his heels. “I guess I’ll just have to rely on my skills in bed.”

Rose blushed, but Adam just rolled his eyes. “Like I didn’t expect something like that from you.”

The Doctor didn’t stop this time as the two of them made for the parking lot. He chuckled the whole way to the Tardis. “Did you see the snooty look on his face? Priceless. Blokes like that are so easy to shock. I can’t believe you were once interested in him.”

She avoided looking at him as she buckled her seat belt. “Well, it was sixth form,” she mumbled. “I was younger then, you remember how I was when we met. Plus, he was at the top of our class, a computer genius, and a violinist. And totally unapproachable because he was from a wealthy family. He was only going to our school because he’d been kicked out of all the private schools and refused to be sent somewhere foreign. Public school was a punishment for him, but a serious boost for our school. Everyone was in awe of him!” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and nibbled her bottom lip. “And… well… you know how young girls are!”

He slid a look at her sidelong before returning his gaze to the street. “Uh… no. I don’t. I’m male.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, I worked up the courage to introduce myself and we ended up talking for a while. He would tell me about science and classical music, his theories about outer space… things like that. Stuff I didn’t know anything about. I guess that’s why we became friends, because I’d always listen to him.” She made a vague gesture with one hand. “Anyway, when he asked me out, I was shocked. I know he seems uptight, he once said some harsh things to me, too. One time--”

The Doctor made a cutting motion with his hand before resettling it on the stick shift. “Alright, that’s enough,” he said, his voice a little sharper than usual. “I don’t need to hear anymore.”

She eyed him, her mouth parted slightly in disbelief. “Doctor…” she said, leaning towards him. “Are you _jealous?”_

The car jumped in speed as he depressed the accelerator. “What?”

“You _are!”_ she exclaimed, delighted. “You’re jealous of my past!”

“What past?” he asked. He immediately flipped on the radio, turning it up much louder than he normally would. “I can’t hear you!”

Rose laughed as he began singing along, loudly, to _Eye of the Tiger,_ effectively preventing her from needling him further. At least until they got home.

It was so rare for the Doctor to be jealous of _her_ past, rather than the other way around. It had startled her to see Adam, but if this was the result, she couldn’t be upset. Despite the memories that came with Adam’s reappearance. She frowned, recalling their last moments together, but she resolutely pushed those thoughts away. It was in the past. It didn’t matter now.

\---

Adam paused in drawing his bow across the strings of his violin. The knock that had interrupted his playing came again. He sighed. “Come in.” He turned away from the door and continued the classical piece he was practicing.

His mother, Sandra, entered Adam’s large, elegantly furnished bedroom. “Well? You didn’t hit anything did you? I’ve been worried sick this whole time.”

“No, it was fine,” he said, not stopping to give her his full attention.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t see why you need to learn how to drive in the first place. Our drivers are perfectly capable of taking you wherever you need to go. You’ve been behaving so strangely lately.”

“Perhaps I’m finally going through my rebellious phase,” he remarked.

Sandra pursed her lips. “That’s not funny. You went through your rebellious phase when you were kicked out of three private schools in succession. Whatever it is that you’re going through now, I expect you to snap out of it before your introduction to Lord de Souza’s daughter.” Her tone softened only minutely as she added, “You know I’m only saying this for your own good. Are we clear?”

He didn’t answer her and finally, she just turned and left the room, the heavy door shutting solidly after her. Adam ceased playing with a squeak of his bow. He looked at his nearby desk where a letter and a picture of a dark haired girl were sitting.

In a fit of violence, he brought the bow down on the antique desk with a sharp crack. The bow snapped in half, and Adam dropped it before the recoiling horsehair could injure him.

He set the violin back in its case with much more care. The bow could be replaced, it wasn’t important, he just wished its destruction had resulted in greater satisfaction for him. He ran a hand over his face.

“For my own good,” he muttered, bitterly. That was his whole life. It was time he took it into his own hands.


	27. Fiancée

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam thinks he has the perfect solution for his predicament. Rose and the Doctor play Pretty Woman.

Later that night, Rose was still trying not to think about the last time she’d seen Adam as a teenager. She’d only been sixteen and his words had really hurt. She recalled now the ice in his gaze as he’d told her she wasn’t worth his time. Being with the Doctor had made her forget what her past serious relationships had been like. There was no one like the Doctor. She wondered if she’d ever really been in love before, or if it had just been immature infatuation.

After showering, she slipped into her robe and stepped back out into the living room while towel drying her hair. The Doctor was bent over the desk in the corner and she approached him curiously, tossing the wet towel over the back of a chair to be put away later.

“Whatcha doing?” she asked.

He startled and slammed something down on the desk, turning in a circle to face her. “Nothing,” he said, putting his hands behind his back.

She lifted a suspicious eyebrow in a credible imitation of his own trademark gesture. “You’re hiding something,” she said, crowding in on him and trying to reach around to grab whatever it was.

He jostled her back and forth, darting in her path. “Hey, hey, cut it out!”

She giggled. “Can’t cut it out, it’ll grow right back!”

“That’s a terrible joke.”

In their tussle, a book fell from the desk, falling open to pictures of students in neat rows. Her eyes widened as she stooped to pick it up. “My old yearbook?” she said, surprised. “Where did you--” She paused, looking up at him slyly. “Oh, ho ho!”

His brow furrowed over grumpy eyes. “What?” he grumbled.

She leaned in toward him, smirking. “You _are_ jealous!”

Putting his hands on his hips, he matched her posture, leaning in. “Is that what you really want, Rose? To see me _really_ be jealous? Because I don’t think you’ll like it.”

She turned the book over and over in her hands, chewing on her lower lip. “No, I guess not,” she said, though she couldn’t help being a little disappointed. Intellectually, she knew that making the Doctor jealous was a bad thing… It was just such an ego boost, for him to be jealous over something he had no control over.

He took the book from her and flipped the pages until he came to her class page. Rose cringed at her long hair with almost two inches of dark roots showing and her caked on mascara, but the Doctor’s expression was thoughtful rather than teasing as she might have expected.

“I was just looking at your picture and thinking how beautiful you’ve become,” he said, quietly.

Her heart melted. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Since this…” He tapped the page, then looked up at her. “Since the day we met. You’re more beautiful every day. It drives me crazy. Because one day you’ll realize it and then I’ll be in trouble.”

She chuckled and took the book, sliding it back onto the desk behind him. Moving into the circle of his arms, she twined her hands around his neck and smiled up at him. “Doctor, if I’m more beautiful, it’s because you made me that way. I’ve changed because of you. I was so afraid of being myself. You gave me the courage to be who I am.”

He smiled and shook his head. “You didn’t need _my_ help. You’re brilliant. You just needed someone to point it out.”

“Well, then I’m glad that someone was you.”

“Likewise. And for the record, I think you’re perfect the way you are.” He leaned down, nuzzling her nose with his. “But let’s see if we can’t make you even more beautiful, eh? We’ll make that prat who was cruel to you regret he was ever born.”

Reaching in between them, he grasped the tie of her robe and pulled it loose, pushing the garment from her shoulders to flop onto the floor. He swept his hands from her shoulders down her arms to her hands, holding them out to her sides in order to look at every inch of her. He shook his head on an exhale.

“Dear God. You are staggeringly beautiful.”

She blushed and bit her lip. “You know you don’t have to flatter me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“It’s not flattery, Rose,” he said, returning his eyes to hers. “Looking at you is like feeling a song come to life. It rises inside me until there’s no where else to go and it all comes bubbling out and I _have_ to tell you.” He wrinkled his nose. “It sounds so bad when I say it out loud.”

She bit back a laugh, since he seemed genuinely perturbed by the levels of corniness of his statement. “No, no, I think it’s… really sweet,” she said with a smile, pausing before adding in a whisper, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone how cheesy you are.”

He let out a relieved breath. “Whew. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“What reputation?”

“That of a sex god musical genius,” he said, puffing his chest out.

“Sex god, eh?” she repeated, squinting her eyes slightly. “I don’t know that I’m familiar with that one…”

“Rose Tyler, you are a lying liar who lies!” He swept her up into his arms with a playful growl, making her shriek with laughter. “I happen to know that you are _intimately_ familiar with my sex god status,” he said as he headed for the bedroom, carrying her along for the ride.

“Hmm. I think you may need to remind me. _Several_ times.”

“Your wish is my command. But!” He leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Be careful what you wish for!”

\---

Rose couldn’t regret the hours of shagging the Doctor treated her to the previous night, even though it meant she was a teench sore and she hadn’t much time to study her driving manual. She yawned as the Doctor read from the booklet, asking her sample questions, while they sat in the waiting room of Gear Change until it was her turn on the course.

“What do you do if there’s a pedestrian in the zebra crossing?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Honk the horn and warn them?”

He snickered and closed the book. “Close enough, I suppose.” She made a face and he shook his head. “Don’t worry if you don’t get your license,” he assured her. “You always have a spot in my passenger seat.”

“Rose.”

They both turned in their seats to see Adam standing in the doorway, his hands clasped in front of him. “I want to apologize to you for what I said when we were kids,” he said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t respond to your feelings. I wanted to make it up to you, so I came up with the perfect solution.” He smiled and spread his hands. “I want you to be my fiancée!”

Rose’s eyes doubled in size as her mouth dropped open, but Adam appeared not to notice. He also didn’t notice the Doctor’s snort.

“I wanted to make you happy and the idea just came to me,” Adam said, then scoffed at himself. “Well, of course.” He came forward and took Rose’s hand, which hung limply in his. “We’ll announce our engagement in a week’s time. My family will host a large party in our honor, actually, I should call and make some arrangements. Excuse me…”

Dropping her hand, Adam turned and ducked out of the front doors to the building. Rose finally closed her mouth and snapped out of her shock.

“Now, wait a minute!” she said, marching after him. “You come back here! What the hell do you think just happened?!”

The Doctor pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “Typical,” he muttered to himself. “Born rich, so he thinks he’s entitled to anything he wants.” He frowned, getting to his feet to follow after Rose. There was no way this was happening. If _anyone_ was going to marry Rose, it was going to be _him!_ “Somebody ought to teach that wanker a lesson…”

He stepped outside just in time to see Rose rip Adam’s mobile from his ear and press the ‘end’ button.

“Oi!” Adam protested, reaching for the mobile, but Rose held it away from him, like she didn’t trust him not to call the person back. “You can’t do that!”

“Let’s get one thing _perfectly_ clear,” said Rose with her hands on her hips. _“You_ don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. You _certainly_ don’t get to tell me who I am getting engaged to! What the _hell_ is wrong with you? I have a life of my own, I have a _boyfriend._ You don’t get to waltz in after all these years and act like I waited around for you and have nothing _better_ to do than become your fiancée!”

Adam seemed to deflate as Rose railed at him. “I know,” he said, looking at the ground. “But I’m out of time.”

“Excuse me?” she asked.

Adam sighed. “As soon as I finish my doctorate in computer science this year, I’m getting married. It’s an arranged marriage, brokered to further the standing of the Mitchell family. They’re going to shackle me to someone I’ve never even met for the rest of my life.” He laughed shortly and without humor. “I’ve never been free. What I said to you when we broke up? Do you know why I said what I did?”

Rose shook her head, shocked to see Adam so defeated when she’d always known him to be such a confident boy.

“It was because my mother disapproved.” Adam came forward a step, his brown eyes full of turmoil. “I loved you, but that didn’t matter! I studied what I was told to study, said what I was told to say. My whole life has been nothing but doing what I’m told. But this is too much, I can’t get married to please my mother, I just can’t!”

Taking her hand again, Adam pleaded with her, desperately. “Please, Rose. Help me. I don’t care that it’s a lie, just be engaged to me long enough for the de Souza’s to lose interest and hook their daughter up with someone else.”

Rose frowned, conflicted. If she turned him down, he’d have to marry someone he didn’t love. Could she consciously condemn him to that kind of life? She wished Adam hadn’t said that he had loved her back then. It complicated things. She could help Adam gain his freedom, but at what cost? The Doctor would be furious.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around to face her boyfriend, who had been silently listening to their exchange a few paces away. “Doctor,” she said, keeping her tone clear and steady, “I want to help Adam. I’m going to be his fiancée.”

The Doctor shrugged. “Okay.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I said, ‘okay.’” He grinned. “I know you’re not _seriously_ considering marrying this clown, so why not? Sounds like it’ll be fun.”

“Fun?!” she repeated, incredulous. This was not how she had expected him to act.

He came to her and took Adam’s phone from her hand, tossing it back to its owner. “If Rose wants to play your fiancée, then fine,” said the Doctor. “But you better understand that it comes at a price.” He put an arm around Rose to lead her to his car. “Come on, we’ve got some work to do.”

“What about my driving lesson?”

“We’ll reschedule.”

Adam frowned after them, his gaze trained on the taller man. “Was that a threat?” he murmured, putting his mobile in his trouser pocket. “How very vulgar.”

\---

“Becoming another man’s fiancée,” said the Doctor as he navigated them away from the driving school and toward Bond Street. “I thought we agreed that making me jealous was a bad thing?”

“That’s honestly not my intention, you heard what’s going to happen to him if I don’t,” she said, fidgeting with her fingers in her lap. “I felt sorry for him.”

“You’re such a soft-touch.”

She crossed her arms. “Well, what would _you_ have done?”

He didn’t even stop to think about it. “I would have stood up to my parents. I wouldn’t play games. I’d be a man about it.”

Rose couldn’t argue with that. That’s exactly what the Doctor would have done. She smiled to herself, happy to be the girlfriend of a man, not a boy, like Adam still seemed to be.

“But now that you’re _his_ fiancée,” he went on, “we need to get you out of those rags.”

“What?” she said, shocked. She looked down at her jeans and teal asymmetrical top. They were clean and free from defects as far as she could tell. She thought she looked cute. “How are these rags?”

Glancing at her briefly, he tapped a finger to her bare shoulder. “You’re exposing yourself. Women like Adam’s mother will think you look cheap. So, I’m taking you shopping. If you’re really doing this, you gotta look the part.”

Rose’s shoulders hunched slightly. “Oh,” was all she said, in a small voice. She’d liked these clothes when she put them on this morning, but all of a sudden she felt self-conscious. She knew that _he_ wasn’t saying she looked cheap, but still… she didn’t like hearing about it from him.

“Cheer up,” he said, coasting to a stop at the curb and turning slightly to give her a smile. “Let’s play _Pretty Woman.”_

Getting out of the car, Rose gaped up at the storefront to Chanel. The Doctor pulled her inside, a man on a mission, declining the saleswoman’s help who greeted them. He moved through the store as if he was Rose’s own personal shopper, saying he’d know it when he saw it. She found herself smiling, it was funny to see him picking out women’s clothing with such a serious look on his face.

He waited outside the changing room while she tried on different outfits and observed her closely as she modeled each one in front of the three-way mirror. He tapped his chin and shook his head at the finely tailored black dress she currently wore.

“We want something simple, but elegant. Something… _moneyed.”_ Rising from the chair he’d been sitting in, he turned her to face the mirror again and ran his hands through her hair, twisting it in the back and pulling it up. “That helps the effect,” he said. “You’ll wear your hair up and part it in the front, like this.” He demonstrated a side part with a few wisps hanging down on either side of her face. Looking down at his handiwork, he leaned in and kissed her neck with a little growl. “Your nape is so gorgeous,” he murmured with his lips against her skin.

Watching him do that to her in the mirror had to be the hottest thing Rose had ever seen. It should be illegal, how he could make her wet in the middle of a high end shop with nothing more than a few words and a kiss. She leaned back against him, her eyes fluttering shut. With one hand still holding her hair, he tilted her head the other way and kissed the other side of her neck, higher, closer to her ear, and her knees buckled. He wrapped his free arm around her waist with a breathy chuckle.

“Maybe I should put you in something with a lower back, to show this neck off,” he mused, as if talking to himself. “Mm. No.” The arm at her waist tightened, bringing her rear in contact with his front, letting her know exactly how much he was enjoying this. “Then I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

Rose moaned softly, pressing her lips together to stifle the sound. She loved the feel of him grabbing her hair, directing the motion of her head. Her skin felt electric from his teasing, every part of her felt alive. “You’d better pick an outfit soon, or else I’m going to have my way with you right here in the fitting room,” she warned in a low voice.

“Promises, promises.”

To her surprise, the Doctor backed off, leaving her to stand on her own wobbly legs. He returned to the task of finding her the perfect thing to wear. She was stymied. Not that sex in a public area was a wise thing to do, but normally he’d tease her a bit more, promising naughty things for when they were alone.

It didn’t end when they left Chanel after spending a small fortune, carrying two paper shopping bags, her new clothes folded inside creamy white tissue paper. They stayed on Bond Street and he treated her to dinner at Sotheby’s, ordering many courses of rich, expensive French food. He coached her on using the various proper utensils and how she shouldn’t bite her fork and to use her linen napkin instead of licking her lips or her fingers.

By this time, Rose had to work hard to suppress her surprise over the active role the Doctor was playing in this undertaking. She’d expected him to put up a fight, to rant and put his foot down and throw around words like ‘I forbid you’ and ‘over my dead body.’ But instead, he was essentially grooming her for the role of being Adam’s fiancée, with shocking proficiency, too. It had been her decision to go through with this, but the Doctor’s enthusiasm was throwing her off. Wasn’t he even a _little_ jealous? This whole day had been just… weird.

\---

Adam met Rose and the Doctor at Gear Change the next day, to inform them that he’d told his mother about Rose, but she wouldn’t break off his engagement to Lady de Souza until Sandra could meet Rose herself. “I hope tomorrow afternoon is good,” he said, nodding to Rose, obviously having taken to heart her message about not dictating to her.

“But that’s so soon,” she said, looking at the Doctor nervously. “I’m not ready!”

“Sure you are,” said the Doctor. “Sooner is better than later, I think. The longer this goes on, the more pressure it puts on Rose.”

“Thanks,” Adam told the other man. “To be honest, I didn’t think you’d be so supportive.”

The Doctor grinned, like he was sitting on a huge secret, but only said, “Don’t thank me until it’s over.”

Later, back at The Flat, Rose paced the living room, biting her thumb. Only the Doctor had put tape over the ends of her fingers so she couldn’t wreck the manicure he’d made her get, so her usual stress relief of nibbling her cuticles was cut off. The nerves churning in her stomach only seemed to get worse every time she thought about the meeting with Adam’s mother.

Looking into the kitchen, she observed the Doctor busily making a dinner salad for them. He didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest and it irked her that she was the only one worried. “Hey,” she said, at last. “Are you really okay with all this?”

“With what?” he asked, his gaze on his project.

“With me going over to Adam’s house tomorrow.”

“That? Oh, yeah. You’ll be fine.”

She huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “Doesn’t it bother you at _all_ that I’m going to be introduced as Adam’s fiancée?”

He finally looked up. “Rose, this was _your_ decision.”

“Yes, but…” She just didn’t understand. Usually, the Doctor was so possessive. “You’re a _little_ jealous, right? I mean, deep down, you’re angry at me for doing this?”

He scoffed and shook his head. “I’m not angry,” he said, a half-smile quirking his mouth, but it only made her more upset.

“Be honest with me!”

“I am!” His little smile disappeared as quickly as it came, and he glared at her. “Look, either do this or don’t, but don’t be half-assed about it! This isn’t a game to get me jealous, this is someone’s life. So, if you really want to help him, then all you should be worrying about is being the best fiancée for him that you can be!”

She shook her head, clenching her fists at her sides. “You’re just acting this way to punish me, aren’t you? When all I wanted to do was help!” She turned her back on him and headed for the bedroom. “Fine, then! If _that’s_ all you care about, then I’ll do it just like you taught me!” She slammed the door, making it clear without words that he wasn’t to follow her.

She’d show him, she’d play her part perfectly.

She flopped on the bed and covered her face with a pillow. The worst part about all this was, she knew she was being childish. She didn’t even really _want_ to deal with the fallout of the Doctor being truly jealous of Adam, but she did want to know that the Doctor _cared._ He’d ‘reserved’ her ring finger, after all. Didn’t it irk him _somewhat_ to see someone else staking a claim on it?

With a groan, she rolled over and punched the pillow, feeling like the absolute worst.

\---

Rose felt like an English Jackie Kennedy when she showed up at the Mitchell’s mansion in her soft pink Chanel dress and cardigan. The small handbag she carried and the heels on her feet were Prada. Her hair was up in an elegant chignon and her makeup was subtle, natural-looking. She gave Sandra Mitchell a demure smile, a far cry from her usual, wide, tongue-touched grin.

“I’m Rose Tyler,” she said, with a little nod. She spoke more quietly, evenly, suppressing as much of her Peckham accent as possible and trying to sound legitimately posh. “It’s so lovely to meet you. I was honored to receive an invitation from such a lady as yourself.”

Sandra’s brows lifted slightly, impressed by Rose’s manners and polished exterior. “Yes… well. Do come in.”

Adam’s mother led the way to a formal dining room where she sat on one side with her son and Rose sat alone, across from them. As they waited for their lunch to be brought up from the kitchen, Sandra grilled Rose for information.

“How long have you and my son been seeing each other?” she asked, her dark eyes sharp.

Adam answered for her, thankfully, since they hadn’t much time to corroborate their story. “About a year, isn’t that right, Rose?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“And where have you attended school?”

Rose froze. “Pardon?” What kind of answer would be appropriate? She couldn’t tell this woman she went to public school and never even got her A-levels.

Sandra narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you _know_ the name of the school you went to?”

Rose fought against the urge to fidget. “Oh, yes, of course, it’s just--”

The large dining room door opened again and they looked to see if their lunch had arrived, some with more relief than others for the interruption. Instead, an unfamiliar man in a sharp gray suit entered.

“Forgive the intrusion,” he said. “In answer to your question, Mrs. Mitchell, Miss Rose has just returned from studying abroad. In Sweden. It’s just that the name of the school is so difficult to pronounce, even Miss Rose needs a moment to remember it.” He chuckled at his own joke, then said a long word that Rose had no idea what it meant (she guessed it was the name of this foreign school she was supposed to have gone to), but the word was so musical that in that moment, she recognized him.

He’d dyed his hair blond and somehow made it go curly, but the man covering for her was undoubtedly the Doctor!


	28. Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor teaches Adam a lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW!

Rose was speechless, her mouth hanging open as she stared at the newly blond Doctor. He came to stand at her side, the picture of decorum, without a wink or even the slight lift of an eyebrow to clue her in on the joke. Sandra’s brows drew together and she frowned as she took in the spotless appearance of the newcomer.

“Just who are you?” she demanded.

“I am Miss Rose’s attendant, of course,” the Doctor answered.

Rose pushed back her chair and stood up. “I’m sorry, I must speak with my… _attendant._ Please excuse us.” Grabbing the Doctor by the sleeve, she all but dragged him out of the dining room and into the hallway. “What are you _doing_ here?” she asked him in a tense whisper.

“I was worried,” he said. “I came to help.” That mollified her irritation somewhat. It showed that he was jealous, at least a little. But then he followed his statement with, “I didn’t think you could handle this on your own.”

Her face crumpled, but she knew she couldn’t cry and ruin her makeup, so instead of letting herself get upset, she held on to her anger and smacked him in the middle of his chest. “You are so mean!” she said in a watery voice. “You know how hard I worked to do this, and I know that I’m nosy and a soft-touch, but you didn’t have to go this far! You _know_ how much I love your hair!”

He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her eyes. “I’m not _trying_ to be mean…”

“Well, you _are!”_ she sniffed. “I’d rather you be jealous than mean!”

Furrowing his brow, he grabbed her arm and pulled her in closer, lowering his voice to remind her they weren’t exactly in private. “Listen, Rose, I get jealous when I recognize someone as my rival. I’m sorry, but I’m not threatened by that ponce just because he knew you at school.”

She rubbed her nose gently as she considered his words. He might not be jealous, but he _did_ seem upset. He took a breath and stepped back from her, running a hand through his blond curls.

“And this is just hair,” he said. “I can always dye it back and it grows fast. The perm will grow out.”

She goggled at him. “It’s a PERM?”

“Shh!” He glanced at the door to the dining room, but all seemed quiet. “Look, I’m on your side here. I won’t embarrass you.”

“Okay.”

The door opened and Adam stuck his head out. “Everything alright?”

“Yes,” said Rose. “I’ll be right there.”

She moved past him and reentered the dining room, but Adam stepped into the hallway for a moment, eyeing the Doctor.

“You came because you were worried about her, didn’t you?” he asked.

“Oh, you think you’ve got it all figured out?” countered the Doctor.

Adam smirked. “She’s the only woman I’ve ever loved. I think I know a few things about her.”

“You don’t say,” the Doctor deadpanned. He clenched his right hand into a fist at his side and, to stop himself from punching the plonker right in his smug face, he stalked past him and followed Rose back into the dining room.

The rest of lunch continued without incident. Rose mentally reminded herself every so often to relax, to just do what the Doctor had taught her. She held her wine glass only by the stem and took little sips, she cut her chicken breast into small pieces and set down her knife with every bite, dabbing at her lips with her napkin. Sandra seemed impressed with Rose’s apparent upbringing, which was a relief to Rose. The stress of the afternoon was weighing on her, but she only had to fool them long enough to break Adam’s engagement.

Sandra wanted to continue to interview Rose, but professed a small headache after lunch. “I’m afraid I must lie down for a bit,” she said. “But Adam will have some rooms prepared for you. Please rest yourself and then you can join us for tea later.”

With no choice but to accept her host’s hospitality, Rose and the Doctor followed Adam into a separate wing of the house. He led them to a large walnut door that opened into a plush guest room, decorated in forest green with touches of gold.

“I have a room for you as well, Doctor,” Adam said with an easy smile.

“Oh?”

“Yes. In the _servants’_ quarters.”

The Doctor’s stormy expression let Adam know he’d hit his mark and Rose uneasily let the two of them depart. She couldn’t picture the Doctor in a servant’s room. She hoped Adam wouldn’t make the Doctor too angry while they were here.

Kicking off the heels she’d been wearing with a sigh of relief, she pitched herself backward onto the bed. It was taller than the bed at home, and made with a brocade duvet. The ruffled pillows were so cushy, they looked like they had hardly ever been used. The room itself was so large, it had it’s own little sitting area with overstuffed armchairs beside two bookcases, a fireplace on the wall opposite the bed, and a baby grand piano near the bay window.

She was almost falling into a light sleep when a soft knock came at the door. Crawling off the bed, she padded over on bare feet. “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” answered the Doctor in a quiet voice, but she would know the timbre of it anywhere. “Open the door.”

“No! What if someone sees you?” Then everything would have been for nothing. She couldn’t believe he would risk such a thing. She heard a soft rustling sound and pictured the Doctor leaning in close against the door, his suit rasping over the wood.

“Please, Miss Rose,” he said, sounding so needy, so desperate, adopting the role of the servant once again. “Please let me in.”

She shivered at the heady feeling surging through her, the power she felt at his begging. Unable to resist, she opened the door for him, stepping back as he came into the guest room. He closed the door behind him and advanced on her at once, a sexy half-smile on his face.

“Well, well,” he said, his eyes on hers, dark and predatory. “The wolf girl has become Little Red Riding Hood.”

Before Rose could tell him what a bad idea this was again, he moved past her, further into the room. She furrowed her brows. “Doctor?”

“Just checking out the room,” he said, lightly. “Want to make sure there aren’t any hidden cameras. Adam might be a closet freak, who knows.”

She put a hand on her hip and tilted her head. She wasn’t quite sure whether or not he was being serious. He looked at the bookshelves closely, so perhaps he was looking for something. He stopped at the shelf that held a rack of CDs and picked up the one on the top.

“Beethoven,” he said. “At least he’s got good taste in music.” He turned the CD case over. “This must be his favorite. It’s on top, but there’s no dust on it.” Smiling, he replaced the CD in the rack and moved to the piano. “I don’t get to show off for you very often, do I?”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, going to his side and sitting down on the piano bench with him. “You show off all the time. In fact, I’m fairly certain that’s what you got your PhD in, ‘Doctor’!”

He chuckled, a good-natured grin on his face at her teasing. “Wellllllll… You don’t usually get to see me show off like _this,”_ he said. “Remember, I started out as a pianist.”

He began to play a classical piece, his fingers flying over the keys under a rush of sound. Rose’s breath caught in her throat. It was gorgeous. She’d almost forgotten how well he played the piano. Usually if he was at the instrument, it was to highlight or illustrate a piece of the song they were working on, not play a full instrumentalization. And then, it was rock music, not classical. It was moments like these that really made obvious the fact that the Doctor was a genius. He was so cultured. Watching him then, playing such a beautiful piece in such a posh bedroom, Rose felt like she was in a foreign art film. He was just too amazing to be real.

\---

Below, in the kitchen, Adam paused in putting together a tea tray and lifted his head. “Diabelli,” he murmured to himself. He looked up at the ceiling, toward the source of the piano music. “It must be Rose, she knows how much I love this piece.” The china on the tray rattled as he hurried to finish preparing the tea. He wondered when Rose had learned to play the piano so well. She was just full of surprises.

\---

The Doctor lifted his hands from the keys, letting the final chords die away.

“Oh, don’t stop now,” said Rose, leaning against his arm. “That was beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he said. Turning slightly on the bench, he wrapped his arms around her waist. She thought he would kiss her, but just looked at her with his dark eyes, thoughtfully. With his hair so changed, it was almost like he was a different person.

Finally, she squirmed, unable to fathom his staring. “What?”

He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m thinking about making you regret becoming that twat’s fiancée.”

She blushed, letting her eyes fall shut, and he grinned right before claiming her lips in a kiss. She melted, her hands clasping at the lapels of his jacket, but he ended the kiss too soon. Barely had she uttered a sound of protest when he rose from the bench and swept her up into his arms. He didn’t go far, he settled her on top of the piano’s closed lid and kissed her again, his hands working their way up her thighs, under her skirt. He kissed his way from her lips, along her jaw, and down her neck. A triple strand of pearls at her throat impeded his progress and he nosed them out of the way in order to nibble and suck at the tendon below. When his fingers brushed her knickers, already damp, she moaned, the sound soft, lost within her closed mouth.

He circled her clit through the silky wet fabric, pulling back from her enough to see her face. “Don’t stifle it,” he said around a knowing smile. “Let me hear you.”

She shook her head, pressing her lips together. “We shouldn’t even be doing this,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “If they find out, then everything we’ve done so far will be a waste. You told me to do this right or not at all.” The rest of her protest evaporated and her head fell back as his clever fingers moved her knickers aside and slid inside her.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, Rose?” he asked, darkly. “To see me jealous, ready to tear your clothes off?” He removed his hand from between her thighs and grabbed her ankles, lifting her legs and settling them over his shoulders.

She couldn’t hold back the cry that erupted from her when his tongue touched her dripping folds, then swirled upward to tease her clit. She fell back on her elbows, submitting to the pleasure and torment of his talented tongue. When she managed to lift her head to look down at him, she saw him watching her with a mischievous gleam in his eyes, like this was all a game… and he was winning.

It wasn’t fair. Those eyes always saw right through her. He could be a complete bastard, and she would still love him. Hell, Adam could walk right in and, as long as the Doctor kept doing what he was doing with his tongue, she wouldn’t care.

Her legs shook and her body bowed as her climax built. He held her hips tight in his hands, keeping her still as his tongue moved, fast and slick, against her. His head moved sinuously back and forth, his sideburns tickling her thighs, until she came with a final drawn-out cry. He lapped at her, prolonging the orgasm as much as he could while devouring every sweet drop, relishing every aftershock that made her body twitch. He pressed damp kisses to her thighs while she came down, breathing in the heady scent of her skin.

When she took her first deep breath and let it out on a long sigh, he straightened and eased her legs down. He grasped her wrists and helped her to sit up, pulling her against him with her legs dangling down at either side of his torso. His hands rubbed warm circles on her back as she laid her head on his shoulder, just breathing as the tingles subsided.

“How about you go out to the garden for some fresh air, let yourself cool down a bit,” he suggested, gently. “I’ll sneak back to the servants’ quarters.”

“Mmhmm,” she murmured. “You’re horrible, you know that, right?”

He chuckled. “Yep,” he agreed, cheerfully popping the ‘p.’ “The worst. That’s me.”

“Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

\---

Adam clutched the tea tray like a lifeline, the edge of it pressed hard against his chest, so that the teacups wouldn’t rattle. He’d almost dropped the whole thing when he’d come to Rose’s guest room, only to hear the most salacious moaning coming through the door. When the sounds peaked, then stopped, he beat a hasty retreat back to the kitchen and left the tea tray on a counter. Apparently, Rose wasn’t interested in _tea_ at the moment.

Breathing hard, he returned to her room and, hearing nothing, knocked. When she didn’t answer, he tried the handle. The door opened to an empty room. His heart thudded. Had they decided to leave?

In a panic, he rushed downstairs to try and catch them, calling for Rose. He stumbled out onto the veranda to find her standing alone at the balustrade, looking over at him curiously. He paused, attempting to catch his breath, aware that he must look utterly mad for dashing about.

“I… thought you might have left,” he said, lamely.

She smiled at him. “I told you I’d see this through. I just needed some air.” As she looked out at the landscaping, she fidgeted with the pearls at her neck. Adam’s breath stuttered as he caught sight of a red mark on her skin beneath the necklace. Immediately, the sound of her moans echoed in his head. “I’ll come back in soon. I’m enjoying your garden.”

Color high in his cheeks, he darted forward and grabbed her wrist. She looked at him, startled. “You’re amazing,” he blurted out. “Elegant, obedient, talented, intelligent. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect fiancée.”

Rose smiled awkwardly, accepting the odd compliment with grace. “Well… thanks,” she said. “I wasn’t sure I could pull this off at first. The Doctor did most of it, he even did my makeup…” She patted her hairstyle. He’d fixed that too, after the shenanigans on the piano. “I just hope it works long enough to end your engagement.”

Adam frowned. “Why are you with that horrible man anyway?” His eyes narrowed to her neck, to the spot where he knew that mark was. How many other marks like that was she hiding on her body? “To let him put his hands on you…” His skin burned with heat. He grasped her shoulders, pulling her in closer. “I loved you first! You’re mine! You’re _my_ fiancée!”

She pushed against his chest, trying to struggle without making a scene. “Whoa, hold on, this wasn’t what we agree to!” she said.

He smiled, digging his fingers into her arms, fighting to hold on to her. “You sinful woman,” he all but purred as he forced her to come nearer. “You’re resisting because it feels too good, aren’t you? Temptress…”

She was almost close enough for him to kiss her when Adam was suddenly grabbed by the back of his jacket and yanked away from Rose. The Doctor landed a solid punch right to Adam’s jaw, knocking him onto the concrete. Standing over him like some kind of avenging angel, the Doctor fixed his best death-glare on the smaller man.

“She was doing you a favor, shithead,” he spat. “Apologize to the lady.” When Adam stuttered excuses, cradling his jaw, the Doctor rolled his eyes as though he’d expected it. “I knew you were nothing but an entitled arse. Did you enjoy copping a feel from someone else’s woman? Remember it, because the rest of your life is downhill from here.”

“Adam!” Everyone looked up to see Sandra Mitchell coming down the veranda from the west side of the mansion. “Everything about that girl is a lie! She’s a fraud! A nobody! Get away from her!”

Sandra’s barbs hit their mark and Rose winced as Adam climbed to his feet, as though she was the one who’d been hit. Their ruse certainly hadn’t lasted very long. This was all one big waste of time.

“No!” said Adam, surprising both his mother and Rose. “She’s my fiancée! I’m going to marry her and you can’t stop me!”

“Adam, you will do as I say,” said Sandra in a warning voice. “I had her looked into. She’s estate trash! She never took her A-levels, let alone went to university! You will end this relationship and--”

“No! Rose is all I’ve ever wanted!”

The drama between mother and son came to a grinding halt as the Doctor burst into sudden laughter. Rose, Adam, and Sandra all stared at him as if he was mad.

“Just what is so funny?” Adam asked at last.

“You,” he said, once he’d calmed enough to speak. “It’s almost _boring,_ you’re so predictable.” He put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, his polished front fading back into his normal ‘Doctor’ attitude. “You really think you’re in love with Rose, don’t you?” He tossed his head mockingly. “Well, of course. She’s the girl of your dreams, isn’t she?” Stepping back, he walked around the woman in question, appraising her with a smile. “Gracious, elegant, musical…” He looked back at Adam with a significant look down at the younger man’s trousers. “Not to mention, filthy enough to drive a virgin like you out of your mind.”

Adam’s face flamed bright red and he struggled to maintain a dignified expression. “What are you getting at?”

“She’s not real,” said the Doctor, tilting his head at Rose. _“This_ Rose? It’s all an illusion. The person you claim to love is a charade.” Pulling his hands from his pockets, he placed them on Rose’s shoulders. “The _real_ Rose is the one you didn’t have the courage to fight for when you had the chance. The real Rose is perfect. Just as she is. And she’s all mine.” The warmth in his eyes disappeared as he stepped over to Adam, looking down at him from his full height. “It doesn’t matter what family you come from or how much money and influence you have. You’re not entitled to anything or anyone just because you want it.” He narrowed his gaze slightly. “Is that finally getting through to you? Or should I say it slower?”

Rose shivered. The Doctor’s eyes were so cold and cruel as he pinned Adam with his stare. Apparently having made his point, she let herself be led away by the Doctor, his hand warm at the small of her back.

Adam shouted after them, “You just wait, Rose could never be serious about a cretin like you! You don’t have the talent or the class to give her what she needs! She’ll get tired of you soon enough and then she’ll be begging me to take her back!”

Sandra grabbed her son by the arm. “Adam! That’s enough!”

He tried to shove her off, but she clung to him with both hands. “I’ll make you regret dumping me, Rose!”

Rose paused, making the Doctor stop with her. She looked back at the young man who still had so much growing up to do. With a sigh and a sad little shake of her head she said, “I almost hope that you do.”

They continued on, down the walk that circled around the mansion, heading for the front exit, just as the Mitchell’s butler came through a side door, rushing onto the veranda holding a tablet in one hand.

“Ma’am!” he said, hurrying over to his employer. “I just found out who he is--”

“You already told me who she is,” said Sandra in an irritated tone as she continued to wrestle with her son to keep him in place. “She’s a con artist, after our family’s--”

“No, not the girl, ma’am,” the butler said, hurriedly. “The man, her attendant.”

“Who?”

The butler pointed at the Doctor’s back. “That gentleman is Rassilon Saxon’s son!”

Both Mitchells whipped their heads in the direction their two guests had departed, mouths agape. “Rassilon Saxon of _Gallifrey Inc?”_ said Sandra, her voice high.

“Yes! Apparently, Mr. Saxon had made him the CEO at one point, but he turned over operations to his brother, Harold.”

Adam sagged in his mother’s grasp, all the fight going out of him. “No,” he breathed. “He can’t be…”

Sandra’s fingers dug into Adam’s arms, making him yelp. “Get him back here right now!” she said, her face animated. “If he’s a Saxon, then this is an opportunity! How could you just let this chance slip right through your fingers, I raised you to be better than this--”

He jerked out of her grasp, pushing away from her. “Shut up! Just shut up!” he cried. “You can’t tell me what to do anymore! I don’t _care_ about the Mitchell family!”

She stalked back to him and slapped him across the face. “You’d damn well _better_ care, and you’d better not pull anything else if you know what’s good for you. You’ll marry Christina if I have to drag you to the church, or you’ll be out on your backside. Do you hear me, Adam? I _will_ cut you off!”

He rubbed his cheek, but otherwise didn’t react to his mother’s fit. “Maybe I should stop letting that scare me,” he said, quietly, turning to go back into the house.

\---

Rose folded her arms over her chest as the Doctor drove them away from the Mitchell mansion. He kept his gaze on the road as she eyed him, waiting to see if he would bring it up first. When he stayed silent, she blew out a breath.

“That was cruel of you.”

He glanced her way. “Hm?”

“What you did to Adam,” she clarified. “You manipulated him into thinking he wanted me, just so you could tell him he couldn’t have me.”

“You’re the one who agreed to be his fiancée,” he reminded her, but a moment later, he added quietly, “And he needed to learn that status doesn’t equal entitlement.”

“Even when that lesson reduces me to some trophy?”

“You _wanted_ me jealous!” he exclaimed.

“No, I didn’t!” she protested. “I just wanted you to _care!”_

They fell silent, unused to fighting. For a while, the only sound was the muted white noise of the passing traffic. Finally, he sighed. “I _do_ care.”

She looked up. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I wasn’t… _entirely_ … not jealous.” Keeping one hand on the wheel, he ran the other through his hair, tugging at it. “I mean, I can never know what you were like in school. That’s his.”

Slowly, Rose smiled. She might not always know what was going on inside that head of his, but without a doubt, he cared. “Well, it wasn’t all that long ago,” she said, knowing what it felt like to be envious of someone’s past. Reaching over, she placed her hand over his on the stick shift. “I’m sorry I wanted to make you jealous. It was a really bad idea.”

He stroked her pinkie finger with his thumb in lieu of holding her hand. “I’m sorry I used you to teach that kid a lesson. It wasn’t nice and I know you don’t ‘belong’ to me or anyone. I just hope he learned that, too.”

She shrugged. “Who knows?”

“Well, if not, I feel sorry for whomever he does end up with.”

“And if he _did_ learn, then I hope it isn’t Lady de Souza.”

He glanced at her with a half-smile on his face. “Even after all that, and how he treated you, you still wish him success, don’t you?”

“I do.”

He shook his head. “That’s my Rose,” he said, proudly.


	29. Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kasterborous gains a new band for their label and Kate seems to have some pretty specific plans for them - which ends up including Rose writing them a song for their first single.

 

The Doctor paid for his ‘disguise’ in spades. Despite his attempt to dye it before the band could see his curly blond locks, they all came over to The Flat for an impromptu pizza night. He suspected that Rose had clued them in that there was something interesting to see, but she claimed innocence. Donna didn’t stop laughing for a full five minutes, then wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. She kept asking if he ‘had more fun’ and asking Rose to back up the theory.

And it didn’t stop once the blond went away. The Doctor dyed his hair a dark brown, several shades darker than his natural color, but it gradually faded, until his hair was a bright ginger in the sun and, unfortunately, most stage and television lighting. Donna remarked how he had always been jealous of her red hair, but he didn’t need to go _this_ far. He didn’t find her comments as hilarious as she did.

Not only that, but because of the bleaching and perming and then dying it again so soon, his hair was totally fried, the ends frizzing and wanting to curl, no matter how much product he put in it. Kate cancelled every appearance that she could, not wanting the band’s image to suffer because of their frontman’s drop in sex appeal. The Doctor’s ego took a serious hit.

Rose insisted that he was every bit as sexy as before, that no unfortunate hairstyle could dampen her interest and the frizzing actually gave his hair a bit of natural (unnatural?) volume. She wasn’t sure if he believed her, but he did say he was grateful for the reassurance. At least he only wore ball caps when venturing outside, and didn’t wear them around her. She didn’t want him to feel self-conscious, so she didn’t say anything about it. She knew he’d start feeling better once he had his regular hair back.

At least he’d been telling the truth about his hair growing fast. A few more haircuts a month than usual, a slightly more aggressive trim, and he was back to his old self in no time, sticky-uppy hair with sideburns and all.

Between that, recording, and marketing, Paradox became very busy in short order. As a favor to Kate, Chang Lee’s DJ came to England to record their first single that would go live in America, focusing on that market first and partnering with the biggest record company in the country. Kate emphasized that they weren’t starting from scratch, that they had work ahead of them but they weren’t going to start kissing arse just because they were leaving home. Everything that Paradox had accomplished, all the music they made - it all came with them. It paved the way to what they were headed for, international stardom.

While the band was filming promos in one of the larger studios for their next two A-sides, Rose sat downstairs inside one of Kasterborous’ practice rooms, working on a new set of lyrics. The paper was a mess of scratched out words with circles and arrows pointing and rearranging phrases, but the process worked for her as an initial draft.

Her pen paused over the page as shouting from the next room interrupted her thoughts.

“You’re assigning Romana and me to a new band? You can’t take us off Paradox!”

It was Van Statten’s voice she heard through the wall, sounding upset. Taken off Paradox? The Doctor hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort. Rose put down her pen and moved closer to the wall to listen in.

“It’s a good move for you,” Kate said, her voice calm and a bit harder to hear. “And I don’t want you to manage this band, I want you to _produce_ them.” A chair scraped the floor. “I think introductions are in order. Henry, Romana - this is Midnight.” A low murmur of overlapping greetings from a mix of male and female voices. “They are a former indie band with a decent following. Here is their file that I’ve composed. Kasterborous is going to develop them and they’re already in the process of writing new songs.”

“The budget for their debut is as much as Paradox gets!” exclaimed Romana. She must have opened the file.

“Actually, I trimmed Paradox’s budget,” Kate said, smoothly. “I think Midnight can do better. If things go well, we can aim for a launch in May. I’ll leave the marketing to you. Use what you learned from Paradox and go bigger and better this time. I want to see Midnight surpass Paradox in every way.”

“You realize you’re setting two bands on the same label against each other,” said Van Statten.

“Mm-hmm. Two birds with one stone.” A slight pause. “Guys, would you excuse us while we go through some details? I’d like to solidify your schedule with your new producers.”

There was some shuffling and a door closed, and then a moment later, the door to the practice room swung open. Rose jerked away from the wall as two men and two women entered. These had to be the members of the band Midnight. They stopped short when they saw Rose already in the room.

“Oh,” said the girl with curly bright blonde hair piled on top of her head. She offered an uncertain smile and aimed her thumb back toward the hallway. “Should we go somewhere else?”

“No, no,” said Rose, flustered, waving her hand to indicate it wasn’t necessary. “I’m just… doing some writing. You can hang out, if you want.”

The bloke with dyed black hair lying flat on his head slumped into the chair next to the one Rose had been sitting in. His bright blue eyes went immediately to her notebook. “Whatcha writing?” he asked.

“Nothing!” said Rose, hurrying over to close the book, embarrassed to let anyone see her chicken scratch, but the guy grabbed it before she could reach. “Oi! What are you doing?” She made to snatch it away, but he stood up, holding it away from her, his eyes wide as he stared at the lyrics.

She followed him as he took her notebook over to the stand-up piano sitting against one wall, ignoring her as she demanded he give the book back. He didn’t set it down until he was seated at the instrument and Rose immediately grabbed the book, holding it protectively to her chest. He didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest, he just closed his eyes and let his fingers move over the keys.

She stood in stunned silence at the beautiful melody that poured forth. The other three members of the band gathered around the piano to listen, but she paid them no attention. She was held in place by the music. She had to admit that he was good, she hadn’t felt that affected by someone’s playing since she first heard the Doctor. The music didn’t make her heart pound in quite the same way, it didn’t leave her breathless, but she was nevertheless impressed.

He didn’t play for long, just a few phrases before he stopped and looked at Rose. “Your lyrics gave me an idea for a song,” he said. “Thanks.”

His gentle smile surprised her. He didn’t seem the type to do that often.

Before she could inform him that they weren’t _his_ lyrics to be inspired from, the door opened again. This time, it was Kate with all the members of Paradox who entered the room. Rose backed away from the piano, holding her book tightly. The bloke at the piano stood up and fell into line with the rest of Midnight and the two bands eyed each other while Kate stood in the middle, smiling away.

“I want to introduce you all to our newest band,” said Kate, addressing Paradox. “We’re engineering their debut right now. They’re called Midnight.”

The short boy with brown hair and eyes tilted his chin and gave Paradox a challenging smile. “I’m Luke, the singer,” he said, then gestured at the curly haired blonde and the small black girl. “This is Astrid and Deedee.” Finally, he indicated the boy with black hair who’d played the piano. “And this is Jethro. He writes our stuff.”

“Pleasure,” said the Doctor.

“You know them, of course,” said Kate. “Jack, Rory, Mickey, Donna, and the Doctor.” She came over to Rose and put a hand on her shoulder with a smile. “And this is Rose, she works on Paradox’s lyrics under the name Tyler Prentice.”

“This _girl_ is Tyler Prentice?” said Jethro, incredulously.

Rose folded her arms over her chest, doing her best not to glare at him. “Yeah. You got a problem?”

“Not at all,” he said, lifting his hands up as if in surrender. “How about having Mr. Prentice write our debut?” directing his question more to Kate than to Rose. “We could use her lyrics for our first single.” He glanced at the Doctor. “Sorry to poach from you guys, but--”

“There’s no way,” Rose interrupted.

“What, is it not allowed?” Jethro leaned forward, looking past the other band into the hallway through the open door. “Mr. Van Statten? Does her contract not allow her to write for other bands?”

“Oi, that’s _our_ manager--” Donna began, but she was cut off by Kate.

“Mr. Van Statten is working with Midnight now,” she said as the bald manager entered the room to awkwardly stand next to his new band. “He’s their new producer and will be handling their debut.”

“What?” exclaimed Mickey.

“Since when?” said Jack, putting his hands on his hips.

Van Statten addressed Jethro, but seemed unable to look his former clients in the eye. “It’s up to Rose whether she wants to write for another band,” he said. Ducking his head, he murmured out of the corner of his mouth, “But you may want to clear it with the Doctor first.”

Jethro shrugged, not understanding the deeper meaning behind Van Statten’s whispered advice. “Okay, fine.” He looked to the taller man, who’d been mostly silent through everything. “We want to use Tyler Prentice’s lyrics for our first single,” he said. “How about it?” He offered a cocky smirk. “Unless you’re worried the new guys will take the top spot away from you.”

“How about you ask the person who actually _does_ the writing instead of everyone else?” said Rose, practically fuming.

“Hold on, Rose.” The Doctor narrowed his eyes slightly at the arrogant musician, then moved to his girlfriend and put his arm around her, pulling her away from the room and toward the hallway. “Give us a minute.”

Confused, Rose went with the Doctor, holding her tongue until he closed the door, giving them some relative privacy as long as they kept their voices down. “Doctor, you know I only want to write for Paradox. Why didn’t you just let me tell them no?”

“Because Kate is up to something and I don’t know what just yet,” he said, shaking his head.

“I heard a bit of her conversation with Romana and Mr. Van Statten,” she said. “It seems like she wants to pit the two bands against each other, though why she would do that when you work for the same company is beyond me.”

“Really?” he mused, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. “Have you heard any of their music?”

“Just a little,” she admitted.

“Is it good?”

She shrugged. “It was… nicely balanced, I guess. I don’t think I could really classify it after only hearing a few phrases. I mean, I could tell that he plays well and all, it was good, but the music… it didn’t really speak to my heart.” She waved a hand, pushing the subject aside. “But it doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t want to write for them.”

The corner of the Doctor’s mouth turned up. “What if I told you this could be in Paradox’s best interest?”

She took a step back, her face crumpling slightly. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Are you saying my lyrics are holding the band back?”

“No,” he said at once, closing the distance she’d put between them to take her hands in his. “I trust your judgement of their band. You just have to trust _me.”_

She pursed her lips, watching his eyes. His dark chocolate gaze was so open, so different from the early days of their relationship. “You want to find out what’s going on,” she said, clarifying his intent.

“Yes.”

“And you need me to write for them to do it.”

“Yes.”

“Do you have an _actual_ plan?”

“Wellllll…” He pulled at his left ear, avoiding her gaze.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re just making this up as you go along.”

“A bit. But I do it brilliantly!”

She blew out a breath. “Alright.” She aimed a finger at his face, arching one brow. “But you are _so_ lucky I love and trust you!” Or else she’d be demanding that he had a whole plan before throwing her into the mix. Improvisation had served him well in the past, however, so she’d go along with it for now.

He smiled gently and leaned down to place a brief kiss on her lips. “I know I am. And I love you, too.”

Opening the door, she marched back into the room, where everyone looked up expectantly. “I’ll do it,” she declared. “I’ll write a song for Midnight.”

The other members of Paradox looked at each other with uncertainty, while Kate and the members of Midnight smiled. Jethro approached the Doctor who’d followed Rose back into the room and held out his hand to him.

“Thanks for letting us use her,” he said.

The Doctor didn’t smile or shake his hand. “Let’s get one thing perfectly clear,” he said, stepping into the boy’s space until he backed up against the table. “You can have Rose’s words. Her time, her talent, all of that.” He leaned down, almost nose-to-nose with Jethro, prodding his chest with one long finger. “But if you lay a hand on her, if you harm so much as a _hair_ on her head, I will _rip_ you apart. Do you understand me?”

Jethro’s wide blue eyes glanced at Rose, then back to the Doctor. “Are you two--?”

The Doctor backed away a few steps, but didn’t take his eyes off the other man. “You need her words. She said she’ll give them to you. Use them and let her bring you up to our level. Just don’t make me sorry I agreed to it, and whatever you do…” He grinned cheekily, going for maximum impact. “Don’t bore me.”

Jethro glared, straightening up from where he’d been leaning backward over the table. “I don’t intend to.”

\---

Rose thought she could handle writing for Midnight, since the Doctor had asked her to, and she felt like this could be a test for her abilities. She almost felt like a ‘real’ lyricist. But then Kate told her she shouldn’t come to Paradox’s studio or rehearsals until she’d completed working with the other band. Upset about being cut off from the Doctor and the others, she asked him to back her up, that this shouldn’t mean they were rivals. But the Doctor stood behind Kate’s decision, to the surprise of Rose and the other members of Paradox.

Rose left in a huff to go find where Midnight was working, determined to get the job over with as quickly as possible. The Doctor glared at Kate, who was smiling, seeming pleased.

“So you know,” he told her, “I don’t like dancing for you. But if I _have_ to, I’ll dance faster than you think I can.”

Kate’s smirk didn’t falter. “Good,” she said. “Back to rehearsal.”

\---

Rose was shocked to find out that Midnight planned a lock-in for that night. “You lock yourselves in the studio?” she asked. “Why?”

“No distractions,” said Jethro. “We find it’s easier to buckle down and crank out a song that way.” He gestured at her, up and down. “You should probably go home and grab some stuff, you know, clothes and at least a pillow. I know Astrid and Deedee take a ton of stuff with them to spend the night.”

“We’ll _all_ be sleeping together?”

He snickered at Rose’s blushing face. “Relax. I’m not attracted to you or anything creepy. And Luke’s only thinking about the debut. Neither of us are into hitting on another man’s girl.”

“You know about me and the Doctor?”

He snorted. “Kind of hard to miss, with how protective he is. And blimey, you ask a lot of questions.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his dark wash jeans and turned to head off. “We’ll be in Studio E at six. Don’t be late.”

\---

She thought for sure that the Doctor would balk at her spending the night with the other band, despite half of its members being female. But he even helped her pack a pillow and blanket into her travel bag.

“How are you okay with this?” she asked, fighting exasperation over the situation. “I mean, I’m only doing this because I want to be a real lyricist, I don’t really _want_ to spend the night with those guys, but if it means doing the job right, then--”

“I know,” he said. “And I’m saying you should go.”

She threw her arms into the air and grabbed the strap of the bag. “Fine, then!”

As she turned, he grabbed the crook of her elbow and swiveled her back around. His other arm came around her waist as he dipped his head to her neck, swirling his tongue at her pulse point and sucking the skin gently into his mouth, scraping his teeth slowly back and forth. Her eyes fluttered shut on a moan. Even when she was irritated, he could get her to melt, it was just unfair. He knew all of her on-buttons.

He straightened slightly and dropped a brief, but warm, kiss on her lips. “There,” he purred, his eyes holding a banked fire. “Just in case.”

She brought a hand to her neck, feeling the heat there. Had he left a hickey… on purpose? She blushed. Of course he had. She supposed it was meant to be proof that she belonged to him, a nonverbal warning sign to everyone else. Strangely, it somehow felt reassuring.

His fingers traced her jaw, then up across her cheekbone and around one ear, pushing a strand of her hair away from her face as he did so. “I wasn’t going to send you off like that,” he said. “But you drive me mad. And by the way,” he paused to give her another little kiss, “you’re already a ‘real’ lyricist.”

She smiled. Sometimes, he said exactly the right thing.

\---

Rose stopped at a Tesco’s for snacks before going to the studio. She wasn’t sure if the band would be ordering dinner or not and she wanted to be prepared. Carrying the shopping bag in one hand and pulling her wheeled travel bag with the other, she gently kicked the door to Studio E a few times by way of knocking.

Jethro opened the door and allowed her inside. It was one of the larger studios, with plenty of room for everyone. The band members appeared to be just standing around, talking, Deedee idly twirling a drumstick in one hand. Rose had thought they might have gotten started, but it looked like they’d been waiting for her.

“I really don’t know why you needed me now,” she said, setting her things down near a set of folding chairs. “I’ll just be in the way while you write the music.”

“No, you won’t,” said Jethro. “This is the easy part. Really, it’ll just take a minute. It almost writes itself.”

She watched in surprise as Jethro moved to a laptop computer, rather than pick up a guitar or go to the keyboard standing nearby. His fingers flew over the keys, tapping away. The screen showed a long set of bar graphs, but Rose had no idea how it pertained to songwriting. There weren’t even any music staffs or chord charts.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“This is how we write songs,” said Luke, leaning over Jethro’s shoulder to watch his friend work. “Jethro’s a genius. He can write a song using equations.”

“These graphs are an analysis of the chord progressions from all the hit songs over the last five years,” said Jethro, his eyes never leaving the screen. “I use that data to create a formula. Chord progressions, genres, choral patterns, the melodies people like… It’s all about the data.” He hit one last key and a moment later, a printer in the corner of the room began to noisily spit out paper. “There. All done.”

“What? Already?” exclaimed Rose. She got that he was good with computers, but she didn’t think this was any way to write a song. Shouldn’t they at least be fostering creative energy as a band, or something?

“Yep,” said Jethro, crossing his arms with a smirk. “It’s easy to write a hit.” He went to the printer and pulled out a copy to hand to Rose. “This one’s a love song. I’m sure you’ll do great things with it. When I heard your lyrics for the first time, I knew you wrote songs that _really_ sell.”

Rose snatched the paper out of his hand, frowning. “I have never written _anything_ with sales in mind,” she informed him. “I just think about how I want the Doctor to see me, or what I want him to do. Aren’t love songs meant to be written out of _love?_ A song like this… it’ll just be empty!”

Jethro rolled his eyes and began passing around copies of the new song to the other band members. “See what you can do with this,” he said to the girls. “We can work on the progressions if anything’s awkward…”

“Oi!” said Rose, putting her fists on her hips, not caring that she was crumpling the sheet music in her hand. “Are you even listening to me?”

He swung back around. “Look, you’re a professional, right?” he snapped. “Professionals write lyrics to suit the song they’re given. It’s _Luke’s_ job to put the soul into a song, let _him_ worry about the love.” He tossed out the word mockingly. Rose was horrified. It sounded like Jethro didn’t even _believe_ in love, how could he write a song about it?

While the band worked on the music in the studio, Rose went into the connected booth. Jethro had burned a digital copy of the song to a disc for her, prior to the band getting down to business, and she put it into the sound equipment, keeping the volume low enough to not disturb them. She shook her head, tapping her pencil on her blank notebook as she listened.

Jethro was wrong. She wasn’t a professional. Writing lyrics came naturally to her when she listened to the Doctor’s songs, because she could hear and feel his passion in the music. But she had no idea how to write for a song that had no soul in it. She wasn’t a real lyricist, she was just… a girl in love.

Folding her arms on the table that the sound board rested on, she closed her eyes and listened. And listened. And _listened,_ eventually putting her head down on her arms, waiting for something, _anything_ to sink in and take root.

Much later, she lifted her head with a sigh and finally glanced at the clock. Hours had passed and she still had nothing. Rubbing her forehead where it had been resting on her arms, she dejectedly closed the notebook then stood up from the chair she’d been sitting in. Groaning, she stretched backward to ease the kinks out of her spine. Maybe after she’d gotten some rest, she’d be able to write.

That reminded her. She was spending the night in the studio. She grimaced, not looking forward to it.

When she left the booth, she found the four members of Midnight already sacked out in a big circle in the middle of the recording room. It was kind of cute, actually. They were still so young. Not that Rose felt old, but having been a part of the Doctor’s glamorous life for this long, she’d become used to being around more mature people.

Deciding not to sleep on the floor because who knew what could be down there, Rose pushed three folding chairs together to make a bed. She laid down her pillow and blanket there before heading to the big communal bathroom next to Studio E to change into some casual pajamas. She’d packed a t-shirt and stretch pants, but even wearing comfy clothing didn’t help the chairs be any more comfortable when she laid down.

She sighed and tried to pretzel her body into a vaguely restful position, thinking enviously of her side of the bed back at Their Flat. She _could_ be warm and cozy, snuggled up against the Doctor’s body, and instead, she had the equivalent of a hard, narrow bench to sleep on. Covering her head with the blanket, she groaned and just hoped this would end up being worth it. So far, she much preferred being the exclusive lyricist for Paradox over her experience with Midnight.


	30. Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose struggles with writing lyrics for Midnight.

After a predictably restless night, Rose finally decided to call it quits and get up, despite the four members of Midnight still being asleep. She never wanted to attempt to sleep on folding chairs ever again, that much she was sure of, but she was too tired and caffeine deprived to think of much else at the moment.

Grabbing some things from her bag, she ambled into the large bathroom as quietly as she could. Rose was immensely grateful that it was one of the few washrooms in the building that actually had a standing shower because she was desperately in need of one to help her wake up. Stepping under the warm spray felt heavenly and she just stood there for a few moments, letting her body relax after its tortured night. She had no idea how she was going to write today, being as tired as she was. Maybe she’d perk up after a cup of coffee. Or several.

She thought longingly of the Doctor, wondering if he was awake yet. _Maybe I could send him a text, let him know I’m thinking about him,_ she thought. She didn’t want to call, she knew she’d just gripe about working with Midnight if she did.

With the water rushing around her, she didn’t hear the bathroom door open, so when the filmy plastic curtain was suddenly pushed aside, Rose turned reflexively in surprise. Sleepy-looking Jethro got a full-frontal view of her wet naked body before she shrieked and instinctively tried to cover herself with her arms. He seemed to jolt into nearly full alertness as she screamed, “GET OUT!”

Jethro had never moved so fast after just waking up in his life.

During breakfast of coffee and donuts, Rose refused to even look at Jethro. Astrid and DeeDee tried to get her to come around, sitting with her and offering smiles and refills on coffee.

“I’m sure Jethro didn’t _mean_ to walk in on you,” said Astrid. “He’s just lousy in the mornings. He can barely function. I doubt he even saw anything.”

“How could he just walk into a shower that someone else was already using?” asked Rose.

“All I was thinking about was waking up,” said Jethro, speaking up from the other side of the room.

“So you’re telling me you didn’t look?” said Rose, skeptically.

Jethro’s stick-out ears turned red and he looked at the wall. “Well…” he hedged.

Rose got to her feet. “Ugh, I knew it!”

“Jethro!” exclaimed DeeDee.

“What?” he asked, spreading his hands. “I’m not gonna lie. I’m a bloke and she’s got great tits!”

Rose blushed to the roots of her hair, her eyes wide, her mouth open in outrage, but no sound emerged. The two female band mates smacked themselves in the forehead as Luke snickered like an adolescent.

Finally, Rose recovered her power of speech. Throwing her hands in the air, she declared, “That’s it!” She went to her bag and began shoving her things into it haphazardly. “I hate you and I’m leaving!”

No one stopped her as she wrenched open the door and lugged her bag with her into the hallway. However, about a dozen paces away, she slowed, then stopped. What was she going to do? Run crying to the Doctor?

Her hand tightened on the strap of her travel bag. _No,_ she thought. _I accepted this job. I should finish it. It’s what the Doctor would do. He’d honor his commitment._

Moving further down the hall, she came to a small waiting area that boasted a sofa, a vending machine and, more importantly, a power outlet. After plugging in her mobile, she sat on the far end of the sofa, nearest the outlet, and pulled up her mobile apps.

\---

An hour or so later, Jethro ambled out toward the vending area to grab some energy drinks for himself and the band. He stopped short when he heard sniffling up ahead and recognized the back of Rose’s blonde head from where she was sitting on the sofa. He sighed and scratched the back of his neck, then shoved his hands in his pockets. He’d thought she’d gone, and here she was, crying over what had happened.

“Look,” he said, awkwardly, moving a handful of steps closer. “Um… I’m sorry. I really was half asleep, but I shouldn’t have--”

“Shh!”

He blinked, startled. Did she really just _shush_ him while he was trying to apologize? Moving up to the back of the couch, he looked over her shoulder to see her intently watching a film on her mobile. “What are you doing?”

“Research,” she said, pausing the film. A couple in vintage clothing were kissing in the rain. “God, this love story is heart-wrenching. I feel so badly for them.” She glanced up at Jethro, her eyes full of tears, then she sniffed and rubbed her nose with her free hand. “It should help me come up with some lyrics for you.”

Utterly confused by her, Jethro left her alone to watch her sad movie. He returned to the studio and sat down next to his guitar. The band worked on the music he’d generated with the computer, but Jethro’s mind was turning and turning. Something felt off. He pushed the feeling down, thinking it would go away once the song had words to go with it.

He waited another hour and half before going to check on Rose and see how she was doing. He found her curled up on the sofa, asleep, but next to her lay her notebook. Picking it up, he saw that she’d finished the song and he smiled at the phrases, nodding to himself.

_Not bad,_ he thought, glancing down at her with a little smirk. His eyebrows lifted slightly as the angle of her chin revealed a small purple-red bruise at her pulse point.

Carefully, he tore the finished page out of Rose’s notebook and replaced it beside her, then headed for the recording booth in the studio. Once there, he quickly located what he was looking for - the CD he’d burned yesterday, containing the digital copy of the new song.

He huffed a sigh as he looked at the reflective rainbow surface. “A heart-wrenching love story, huh?” he muttered.

Holding the CD in both hands, he cracked it in half.

\---

That night, Rose had refused to sleep on the folding chairs again and compromised by bedding down out near the vending area on the sofa this time. At least then she’d be sure and get some sleep, but she’d still be readily available to work.

Just as she was completing her makeshift bed, her mobile rang and her whole face lit up as she recognized the Doctor’s ringtone. “Hello!” she said, brightly as she picked up.

“It’s me.”

“Yeah, I know, there’s this little thing called caller ID.”

He chuckled. “Cute. How’s it going? How are your lyrics?”

She pursed her lips. The band hadn’t said anything about her lyrics to the song. Luke, Astrid, and DeeDee had all gone out that afternoon, saying that Jethro had wanted to be alone to work on the music. They’d all been shocked, as he’d never done that to them before. Rose respected his want for privacy and had decided to go to bed, though she felt irked by the musician. He could have at least tried to work with her a little to get the lyrics where he wanted them. Instead, he’d given her no feedback whatsoever. She’d been hoping to go home that day, but it looked like that wasn’t happening. The rest of the band hadn’t even returned yet. “Well… I guess we’re still working on it.”

“Are you spending all your time alone, nose to the grindstone?”

She smiled at the teasing note in his tone. “God, no. I wish.”

“Are you eating enough?”

“I guess. Too much junk, though.”

“A couple of days eating badly won’t hurt you. Make sure you get enough sleep, too.”

“Ugh. Yeah. At least I’m sleeping on a couch tonight, last night was torture.” She twirled a strand of hair around one finger. “What about you? Are you missing me?”

“Well, the bed is awfully cold.”

She laughed softly. “You prat. I’m more than your heating blanket, you know.” She gasped as her arm was suddenly yanked away from her head and she looked up to see Jethro pluck the mobile out of her hand.

“Stop checking up on us!” he shouted into the phone, right before ending the call.

“Oi!” Rose surged to her feet and came around the couch, reaching for her mobile, but he held it over his head, away from her too-short grasp. “Give that back! You can’t just go around, hanging up other people’s calls! Give it! That’s mine!”

“It’s mine now,” he said, using his free hand on her shoulder to keep her at arm’s length when she would have attempted a swing at him. “You can have it back once you’ve written something good.”

She stepped back, eyes blazing. _“What_ did you just say?”

Rather than answer her question, Jethro reached into his back pocket and pulled out a CD case. “I spent all day writing this,” he said, holding it out for her. “I’ve never written a song this way before, but I… feel good about this one. I want you to throw out the lyrics you wrote for the other song and write new ones for this one. It’s still a love song. A melancholy love song. See if you can find words to match the melody.”

Not knowing what else to do, Rose accepted the CD.

Jethro turned and headed for the lifts. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll text the band and find out where they went. Be back later.”

So surprised that he’d actually thanked her, she forgot to be mad that he hadn’t given her back her mobile. She remembered once he was out of sight, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it then. Frustrated, she decided to give the new song a listen before going to bed, wishfully hoping that she might get a brilliant idea in her dreams.

She padded through Studio E and sat down in the booth, popping the CD into the sound equipment. Even though the instruments were digitized, Rose was stunned by what she heard. The melody held such vulnerability, it made her almost ache to hear it. A love song from a lonely heart. She had a hard time believing that Jethro had actually written it.

She bit her lip, wondering if she’d be able to find the right words for it. She thought she’d managed to write a decent song for Midnight, but this song was a whole different story. Her heart thudded, her stomach clenching in sudden anxiety. She wished the Doctor was there to hold her, to help inspire her.

\---

The Doctor lifted an eyebrow at Kate. She’d been smiling and humming to herself as they sat in the sound booth, fine-tuning the mixing of the latest Paradox single. Quite frankly, it was annoying. “You’re in a good mood,” he commented.

She fairly beamed at him. “I got ahold of Midnight’s new song,” she said, pulling a disc out of her jacket pocket. “They rewrote it in one night and now they’re going to rework Rose’s lyrics to fit the new arrangement. Want to have a listen?”

He debated with himself for a moment. On one hand, he really _did_ want to have a listen. He’d looked up some of Midnight’s indie work, but he wanted to hear how they’d improved. But on the other hand, having a listen was probably _exactly_ what Kate wanted him to do, since she just ‘happened’ to have the disc with her. Setting his mouth in a line, he grabbed the CD from her and shoved it into the player.

Putting on the headphones, he closed his eyes. It was only a few moments before they popped open again, wide with shock. Holding one earphone to his head and pulling the other one off so he could hear, he asked Kate, “Did something happen between Rose and Jethro?”

“What makes you say that?” asked Kate, rather than answer.

The Doctor frowned. “Their musical style changed.”

Kate grinned. “You noticed. Not that I’m surprised.” She shrugged. “You’ll have to ask Rose if anything ‘happened.’ Though I think it’s clear that her influence has helped to change their band for the positive.” She held up a finger, forestalling anything the Doctor would say. “And may I remind you that you signed off on this. You said she could help them with lyrics.”

He smiled coolly, setting the headphones back on the soundboard and flicking the music equipment off. “Midnight’s on to something. Good for them.” His smile didn’t touch his eyes, they remained hard and sharp. “But if you think they’re better than Paradox, then you don’t know me. You don’t know _us.”_ Rising to his feet, he headed for the door. “I’ll be in the studio. We need to polish the new song.”

As the door closed behind him, Kate tapped her feet on the floor, the only outward sign of her delight. Everything was going just as she’d hoped it would. She knew the best way to get to the Doctor was through Rose.

\---

“Do I have to spell this out for you? I thought it would be fairly _obvious_ that the words need to have substance!” Jethro balled up Rose’s latest attempt at lyrics and tossed the wad of paper toward the bin in the corner of the room. It was already full of the day’s work. “Did you even listen to the song?”

“Of course I did!” said Rose, fidgeting with her fingers and avoiding his angry glare. “I tried to write lyrics that would match your song, honestly, it’s just not as easy…” She trailed off, not wanting to admit that it was harder writing for a different band, but Jethro seemed to pick up on what she’d been getting at all the same.

“Why is it you can write for _him_ and not me?” he asked, pacing away from her and frustratedly ruffling his own hair. “What’s your problem? Don’t you know what it feels like to want something you know you can’t have? Don’t you get that?” He turned back and stopped when he saw Rose’s face, crumpled with the effort of holding back tears. “Whoa, hang on--”

“Why don’t you just write it yourself!” she snapped, hanging on to her anger at Jethro’s relentless tirade, rather than let her exasperation with herself make her cry. “You already know what you want the song to say, so why are you making _me_ write it? I’ll admit it - I’m not a real lyricist. I only know how to write what I’m feeling. My fantasies, the way I want the Doctor to feel about me… I just put it down on paper, that’s it!”

Jethro was silent for a moment, then he reached into his pocket and pulled out Rose’s mobile. He handed it to her, then turned away. “Okay, fine. Just go.”

She stared at the mobile in her hand. “What?”

“Leave!” he said, sitting down at his laptop with his back to her. She flinched at his tone.

Finally admitting defeat, Rose picked up her travel bag and left the studio. She texted the Doctor on the way down in the lift to come pick her up. She could have taken the tube, but she needed to see him.

She waited for him outside Kasterborous, leaning against the building, looking down at the pavement and feeling sorry for herself. _I should have known I couldn’t write for anyone but Paradox,_ she thought, miserably. _I couldn’t even do one song. I’m worthless as a lyricist without the Doctor._ She wondered what he was going to say when he picked her up. He was the one who’d believed in her ability.

A horn beeped and she looked up to see the Doctor climbing out of the Tardis, parked at the curb. “Need a ride?” he asked with a smile.

She fell into his embrace, burying her face into his collar and breathing him in. “I couldn’t do it,” she said, her voice slightly muffled. “I couldn’t write for Midnight. You sent me off to be a lyricist and I failed.”

“Oh, love, no,” he said, gently, rubbing her back. “You didn’t _fail._ Your creative process was broken, that’s all.”

She lifted her head to look at him. “What?”

“Think about it,” he said. “When it’s _my_ song, you automatically feel something, don’t you? And when you wrote other times, you had me there to ‘inspire’ you.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively so she would know exactly what he meant. “We’re a team, Rose. Shiver and Shake.”

She smiled. “Which one’s Shiver?”

Instead of answer her, he leaned down and placed a lingering kiss on her lips. “How about I take you home and make you do both?”

As if on cue, a shiver ran up her spine, making her giggle.

“Doctor.”

They both turned to see Jethro standing on the pavement near the door, his hands shoved in the pockets of his ripped jeans. The two men sized each other up and Rose wondered what Jethro wanted. Surely he wasn’t going to ask her to come work with them again.

Surprisingly, Jethro’s question was for the Doctor. “You knew my songs didn’t have a soul, that’s why you sent Rose to work with us, to help me figure it out. She doesn’t care about sales figures, she just writes from her heart.” He shifted his weight. “Why’d you do it? And you’d better not say for shits and giggles or I _will_ slug you.”

A corner of the Doctor’s mouth turned up in a smirk. “I didn’t do it for you, kid. I did it for me. There was something I needed to do. And the best part is, even now that you’ve stepped up your game, I can _still_ kick your arse.”

“We’ll see about that,” said Jethro, turning to go back inside. He had no doubt that Midnight was up against a tough act, but he was going to try his hardest to give the Doctor a run for his money.

After shutting Rose’s bag into the boot and getting into the car, Rose finally asked him, “So what was the thing you needed to do?”

“Figure out what Kate was up to,” he said. “This whole two-bands-against-each-other bit. She was worried that Paradox’s work was going to head downhill, that we would stagnate. She didn’t want us resting on our laurels, now that international stardom is on the horizon. A little in-house competition would be good for both bands, we’d both produce better work, driving up sales for the same company. She denied playing me, of course. But it could be interesting, having another band on our level to compete for numbers.”

Rose sighed and rolled her eyes. Of course it was all about numbers to Kate, she wouldn’t be the brilliant producer she was if she didn’t push her bands to be the best. Rose just didn’t always agree with the woman’s methods. She could be downright ruthless.

“And there was one other thing.”

She looked at him expectantly. He looked like a child with a sweet to share.

“I wanted to write a song.” He glanced at her with a little smile. “Want to hear it when we get home?”

It went without saying that she did, but she was surprised. The Doctor wrote a song without her. He’d needed her to leave so he could write it. She’d spent three days with people who were practically strangers, had she been getting in his way that much? What kind of song was it that he’d needed to be alone?

Once back at Their Flat, she stood anxiously next to the piano, leaning against it, as he sat down at the keys, flexing his fingers before closing his eyes and beginning to play.

_I hear a lark singing its morning melody_   
_Telling me to open up my eyes_   
_A growing golden glow comes through the window_   
_Oh, how quickly nighttime flies_

_The dawning of the sun chases away our stars_   
_And I don’t move as the daylight melts the moon_   
_I just want you to keep on sleeping in my arms_   
_Forget the day that’s coming on too soon_

_I’ll keep your hand in mine when we go walking,_   
_In sunshine or in rain._   
_And someday we’ll talk about a future_   
_To honor and obey._   
_But the night still passes much too quickly,_   
_Another day gone, like sand through a glass,_   
_You say it’s enough,_   
_But a lifetime could pass,_   
_And even a lifetime isn’t long enough with you._

_Deep in the dark, I’ve kissed every freckle,_   
_Tracing the universe of stars that you hold._   
_I sweat through the fever you’ve kindled in me,_   
_The feeling inside will not be controlled._

_I’ve held you so tight, but you never complained._   
_You know that we’ve come so far._   
_But for all that I am, I can’t make the dreamtime stay._   
_I can’t always protect you from the way that things are._

_Just keep your hand in mine when we go walking,_   
_In sunshine or in rain._   
_And promise me we’ll have a future_   
_To honor and obey._   
_Though the night still passes much too quickly,_   
_Just keep your eyes shut tight and we’ll pretend_   
_The nights are everlasting_   
_And our love will never end._

_Cause even a lifetime isn’t long enough with you._

There were tears in Rose’s eyes as the final chords died away. In one song, she knew exactly how he’d felt while she was away. It was beautiful, haunting. It pulled at her, lingering in her head, her soul. It was easily the best thing he’d ever written, as far as she was concerned.

Opening his eyes, they were full of such warmth when they looked at her. “I needed to write that song,” he said, quietly. “For you, Rose.”

She swallowed thickly and moved to sit beside him on the bench. “What’s it called?”

_“Even A Lifetime.”_

She’d guessed it would probably be something like that, given the chorus, but it still made her heart trip a beat.

“I had to feel how much it hurt to be away from you,” he said, gliding his fingers soundlessly over the keys. “That’s why I had to be alone to do it. Sorry if you feel like I used you…” He looked at her again. “But I don’t regret what I did. That song is the most honest thing I’ve written. I wouldn’t take back a single line.”

She knew how he felt. He was her muse, just as she was his. The melodies he wrote filled her up inside, until it was impossible to distinguish her feelings for him from how his music made her feel. The words just came pouring out.

Leaning in, she kissed him, giving him her acceptance, forgiveness, and praise all in one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like the song. I wanted it to fit, not just this universe, but the canon universe as well. I'd like to say that it could fit any Doctor/Rose universe, like the whole idea of AU - every me loves every you. ^_^


	31. Skaro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's trouble brewing on the horizon as a powerful production company takes note of Paradox's skyrocketing fame. Also, the Doctor goes shopping for something very special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The beginning of the end! This marks the start of the final story arc. Thank you to everyone who has been so patient with me as I worked my way through this. I hope you don't hate me by the time this arc is over. There will still be a happy overall ending, but this arc will contain some of the most graphic stuff I've ever written. But I figure, if the person who wrote Outlander can do it, so can I. I'll provide ample warning about these upcoming chapters, though, and let you know what to skip if you so choose.

Once Midnight completed recording their song, they brought the finished disc up to Van Statten for his approval. Breathlessly, the band stood in his office, too nervous to sit down, as the producer played the CD for them all to hear. Jethro’s guitar played a slow intro before the other instruments joined in and Luke’s voice came through the speakers in a clear tenor,

 _Words escape me as I see_   
_Pairs of lovers walking by._   
_Hand in hand, they pass me._   
_Where’s the hand to fit in mine?_

 _Even as the rain comes pouring down,_   
_I’m waiting for you here, just as we planned._   
_Puddles full of abstract shadows._   
_And I can’t understand_

 _What you did to me,_   
_I can’t help but wonder._   
_I need to hear your voice,_   
_But my ears are full of thunder._   
_I’m lost without your embrace_   
_And you just won’t be found,_   
_Can’t find my way in the dark,_   
_I can’t see you with all this love around._

Van Statten was silent through the whole song. The band shifted as it came to an end and he opened his eyes. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s book a studio for a cover and video shoot.”

“Woo!” cried Luke, throwing his arms into the air. Astrid and DeeDee high fived each other.

“It’s a good song,” Van Statten told Jethro. “What did it for you? Was it the excitement over your debut or…?”

Jethro shrugged and crossed his arms. “I stopped thinking about trying to please millions of fans and just focused on capturing one girl’s heart.”

The producer lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything else.

\---

Excited buzz surrounded the advertising for Paradox’s new single. The woeful love song was a completely new side to the band and fans couldn’t wait to see the accompanying video. Kate pulled every angle she could, knowing that Kasterborous was spending a fortune to launch Midnight and their debut single would drop a week after _Even A Lifetime._ Despite the bands being on the same label, she didn’t want to lose to Midnight in record sales or ticket sales.

Van Statten and Romana did their jobs well. The adverts for Midnight’s debut were plastered all over London. Van Statten had also marketed the song to television studios, securing it as the theme to an upcoming drama. As such, it was featured in a lot of telly ads as well. The new band was growing in popularity every day. Rose was glad for their success, but still couldn’t help feeling disappointed in herself a bit. _Love Around_ had really solid lyrics. Lyrics she couldn’t write.

As she was waiting for the lift at Kasterborous, someone came up behind her and flicked her ear. Whirling around, she was shocked to see that it was Jethro, grinning at her.

“Well, if it isn’t our wayward writer,” he said.

She rubbed her ear. “What was that for?”

He just shrugged. The lift doors opened and they both got in, pressing the buttons for their respective floors. As the lift began ascending, he leaned over slightly and murmured, “Thanks.”

She looked at him, confused. “For what?”

“For helping me with the song.”

She huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes. “Don’t make fun of me. I know I blew it. I certainly didn’t do anything worth being thanked.”

“Are you kidding?” he said as the lift came to a stop. “You’re the one who gave the song its soul.”

Rose blinked. “I did?”

The doors opened and Jethro got out of the lift, walking backwards to wink at her. “Forget it,” he said, cheekily. “I wouldn’t want you to get a swelled head.”

“Knob!” she cried, just before the doors shut again.

Rose shook her head. Maybe she’d never understand that guy, but she supposed it didn’t matter. She was just happy not to be banned from the Paradox studio anymore. She smiled as she exited the lift on her desired floor and a little hop entered her step as she anticipated working with her band again. Her Doctor. Whenever she was near him, she felt like she could do anything.

\---

Dale hesitated, wiping his sweaty palm on his pant leg, before knocking on the office door of Skaro Productions’ CEO. He tried to appear calm when the bid came for him to enter, but beneath his neatly pressed suit, he was quaking. Many an assistant had gotten fired for bringing Kelad Davros bad news before, and Dale hadn’t been working at the company for very long. He swallowed hard as he crossed the plush rug to stand before the dark, imposing desk.

Behind it sat the man in question, his deep-set, bright blue eyes trained on the computer monitor in front of him, giving his face an eerie glow, highlighting his hooked nose and the frown lines around his mouth. Despite his put-together appearance, his elegant suit, his dark hair slicked back, revealing gray at the temples, there was an almost feral quality about him. Every inch of him appeared pulled taut, as if he was constantly tensed for action, but lying in wait. When he turned his attention to his assistant, the young man fought not to flinch and instead looked at the small stack of magazines and newspapers in his hand.

“I have this week’s charts for you, sir,” said Dale, placing his offering on the desk, already turned to the appropriate pages. Davros picked up the first one. “Paradox is on top for the second week in a row. There’s a new band called Midnight in second.”

“So, Paradox just put out their best-selling single to date and another band debuts at number two.” He skimmed the list. “Our top artist is ranked sixth.” Dropping the magazine, he leveled his gaze at his assistant again. _“This_ is the news you bring me?”

“Paradox is going global,” said Dale, feeling sweat beginning to bead at his dark hairline. “They’re untouchable right now. We can’t expect anyone to--”

“Kasterborous exists _only_ because of Paradox,” Davros interrupted, picking up the next magazine. “I think they’re getting a little too high and mighty. It’s about time someone taught them some manners.”

He placed the magazine down, turning it to face Dale. The page held an interview with the Doctor about their latest song. The by-line read: _I felt empty while she was away._

“This may be of some use,” said Davros, tapping the article. “Find out everything you can about who ‘she’ is. The Doctor’s weakness is Paradox’s weakness and it’s just begging to be exploited.” He sat back in his leather office chair, the springs giving only the slightest creak. Steepling his fingers, he pressed them to his thin lips, his mind turning with potential plans. “Skaro will crush Paradox.”

\---

As part of reaching two million in sales for _Even A Lifetime,_ Paradox was booked on BBC One for a special, featuring music medleys with brand new orchestrations, solo interviews with each band member, and a highlight for Midnight with both bands performing together. Jethro bragged in the interview following the spot that his band would smoke Paradox on the charts next time, the Doctor only smiled and said that he almost hoped it happened.

Rose stood near the back of the studio alongside Kate and Van Statten, watching the proceedings. It was a little funny, how music had brought the two bands together. It made her feel a touch envious. Rose could see the joy in the Doctor when he performed, it was almost a tangible thing, and she couldn’t give him that. She had a small part in helping him get there, but onstage - that was another world. She knew he loved her, of course, but he was also in love with performing. It was odd for her to feel jealous, yet proud and protective at the same time.

“Well, well, well…”

Kate startled as an older man in an expensive designer suit approached her. He bore a smile on his face, but it looked less like a smile and more like he was baring his teeth, as if he didn’t quite know how to do a real smile.

“Kate Stewart. How long has it been?” the man asked.

“Mr. Davros!” she exclaimed, her eyes going wide. “Uh… too long, sir, I suppose.”

“Yes, it must have been a long time, if Kasterborous is doing so well,” he agreed. “You’ve got two artists at the top of the charts. I would guess that’s _your_ doing? It seems you’re on a roll. Perhaps I need to work harder?”

“It’s a… team effort,” said Kate, putting her hands behind her back and clasping them tightly, but Rose saw that her fingers were trembling as she did it. “I’ll always be grateful to you for your guidance as I was coming up the ladder. If I haven’t shown the proper respects to Skaro, I deeply apologize--”

Davros made a careless gesture with a slight shrug. “It’s no matter. What’s good for the music industry is good for Skaro Productions.” He narrowed his eyes slightly. “As long as you share the wealth.” He laughed. It was like a rustle of dry leaves over gravel.

His eyes slid over to Rose in an almost pointed manner and Kate jumped, as if just remembering that Rose was still standing there.

“Right,” said Kate, putting an arm around Rose, surprising her. “May I introduce--”

But it seemed that Kate’s belated introduction was unnecessary. “Oh, I know all about this little treasure,” said Davros, taking a step closer. “This is Paradox’s lyricist, Tyler Prentice. Her real name is Rose Tyler. She’s also the Doctor’s girlfriend.”

Rose’s eyes went wide. He knew all that? Before ever being introduced to her? Who was this guy? She looked at Kate, only to see that the producer was slightly paler than normal. The hand on Rose’s arm was quite tight, but she couldn’t find it in her to protest. Kate was clearly unnerved by this Davros person and Rose had never seen her rattled by _anything_ before. That was the thing that worried her the most about this impromptu meeting.

His not-smile returned to his face as Davros held out his hand to Rose. “I’m Kelad Davros. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Hello,” murmured Rose, briefly shaking the man’s hand. It was cool and dry, and bordering on too tight, but he let go before she could comment on it. She didn’t want to meet his eye. He exuded intimidation.

Thankfully, he turned his attention back to Kate. “We should have a drink soon.”

“Yes, of course,” said Kate, almost automatically.

“Until then.” Davros turned and took his leave.

Kate didn’t let go of Rose until Davros was out of sight. Once he was gone, she let out a breath and sagged a bit, before rallying and straightening her shoulders once more. “Henry,” she said to the producer who’d gone unnoticed, “does Skaro have any artists on the bill today?”

Van Statten already had his tablet in hand. “No,” he said, frowning. “And they aren’t shooting anything after we wrap, either.”

Kate folded her arms. “So, either Davros _missed_ me,” she scoffed, “or he came to check out our bands.”

“Who was he?” asked Rose.

Kate turned to look at her. “He’s the most powerful man in this business,” she said, seriously. “Offend him, and you’re through.”

“You seemed… almost afraid of him,” Rose ventured. She didn’t want to put Kate off with her observation, but the producer’s reaction to the older man genuinely worried Rose.

Kate shook her head. “I know you don’t always approve of my methods,” she said. “How I get things done at any cost. Well… he’s the man who groomed me into who I am. And he’s about a hundred times worse than me. What that man does to assure his business…” She shuddered. “That’s real ruthlessness.” Looking over at the lyricist’s stricken expression, she huffed a soft laugh and patted Rose on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, he shouldn’t be an issue at your level.”

When Kate turned back to Van Statten, Rose rolled her eyes. Apparently, there were still some things that went over her head.

\---

Davros slid into the backseat of his town car, the high quality leather of the seat squeaking as he made himself comfortable. Dale looked at him in the rear-view mirror.

“Sir?”

“Drive.” He tapped his fingertips together as the car sped off. “I was able to meet the Doctor’s girlfriend,” he said, conversationally. “Your intel was correct. She goes to most tapings.”

“And?”

Davros chuckled, watching the scenery go by. “She’s sweet. And frightfully innocent. No wonder the Doctor is so protective. Even little Kate bristled. This Rose is going to be _quite_ useful.”

\---

After the taping wrapped, Kate announced that they were stepping up their global game. Instead of just a launch in America, they were going to launch America and Japan simultaneously, and Paradox would be traveling to New York in the summer. Knowing how important it was to the band, she also said that Amy and Melody, Ianto, and Rose were welcome to come along. Donna patted Mickey on the back, knowing that Martha’s schedule wouldn’t allow her to go to New York to be with him.

“Jealous?” she asked.

“Have I turned green?” he returned, crossing his arms and pouting. “Maybe I could ask her to come visit. If she can wrangle some time off from the hospital.”

“Could do. You may want to put a ring on it, Micks,” said Donna. “If you’re really serious about her, that is. Martha may decide that having an internationally famous boyfriend is too much trouble for a budding doctor.”

He didn’t say anything, but his expression turned thoughtful. Donna grinned. She knew he’d be thinking about what she’d said the whole time they were abroad, as well he should.

\---

Later that night, after Rose had drifted off, the Doctor propped himself up on an elbow. His eyes were heavy and the call of his soft pillow was tempting, but he ignored it in favor of watching the woman he loved sleep. She lay on her side with her hand near her face. His gaze narrowed on her fingers.

Carefully, so he wouldn’t wake her, he placed his thumb and forefinger on either side of her ring finger, then held up his hand to see how big the space was. Not very. Her fingers were so slender. Leaning down, he placed a kiss to the spot he’d sized.

Rose’s eyelids fluttered and she took a deep breath. The Doctor laced their hands together to cover up what he’d been doing.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” he whispered.

“Anything wrong?” she mumbled, her voice thick.

He gave her hand a squeeze. “No, everything’s fine. Go back to sleep.”

She smiled, blinking sleepily, and scooted closer. “Mmm,” she purred contentedly. “You’re so warm.”

He wrapped his arms around her and chuckled softly. “Yeah, well… You’re pretty hot yourself,” he teased as he held her close, finally allowing himself to drift off with her.

\---

The next morning, before Rose had gotten up, the Doctor dressed and drove out to Sloane Street, parking in front of an elegant shop with white columns forming the façade. The sign over the door in gold letters read _Graff._

A shop girl smiled a greeting for him as he came through the black iron scrollwork and glass door. “Hello,” she said. “Shopping for a gift today?”

“Sort of,” he said, removing his sunglasses and putting them into an inner pocket of his coat. He looked around at the glittering display cases, the showcase lighting making each piece of jewelry especially sparkly. “I’m looking for an engagement ring.”

The girl’s smile broadened knowingly. “Oh,” she said, warmly. “Right over here, then.” She led him over to a particular display which held row after row of different rings, all beautiful, and many of them one of a kind. “What size are you looking for?”

The Doctor furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure.” He held up his hand with his first fingers spaced according to what he’d sized last night. “She’s pretty tiny.”

“No problem.” She gave him a keyring with different plastic rings and the appropriate size stamped into each one. “We’ll use this to find her.”

He went through them, starting at the smallest and working his way up. When he found the right one, he couldn’t help but smile. It was Rose. He just knew, this was the one that fit. “It’s this one,” he said, indicating a size six ring.

“Perfect.” She took the keyring back and gestured at the display. “Do you have an idea of what she’ll like?”

“I’ll know it when I see it.”

A short time later, he stepped out of the shop with a small dark blue bag. Though his purchase was tiny in size, it felt heavy in his hand. Inside the bag was a little black box, tied with a navy blue ribbon emblazoned with the shop’s logo, and inside that box was another box of black leather. And inside _that_ box was… he hoped… his future. _How odd,_ he thought, _that such a little box could be so much bigger on the inside._

Looking at his watch, he hurried to his car. His errand had taken a bit longer than he’d expected, but he’d wanted to make sure he chose the perfect ring. Rose was probably already awake and wondering where he was.

\---

Rose picked up her step as she neared Kasterborous, seeing the building in the distance. She didn’t know why the Doctor had left for work so early and thought maybe there was a meeting she’d forgotten about, so she’d hurried through her morning routine and left as soon as she could. She probably didn’t need to be present for it, which was why she thought the Doctor had gone without her, but on the other hand, what if he just hadn’t wanted to wake her and figured he could tell her later what had been said? She appreciated his sweetness, but sometimes she felt like she had to remind people, like him and Kate, that she was just as professional as they were and wanted to be treated that way.

“Miss Tyler.”

She stopped just before the double glass doors to the building and turned. At the curb sat a shiny gray town car and stepping out of the back door was Mr. Davros, looking impeccable in a dark suit. What was he doing here?

“We met the other day,” he said.

“Yes. Mr. Davros, right?” she asked, nervously.

“You remember me. I’m honored,” he said, though his chilling smile didn’t really convey such an emotion. He looked up at the studio. “Seeing Kate made me curious about where she was working and what type of establishment she is helping to run. I thought I would come see for myself.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure just what about this man put her off. He seemed nice enough, but she still felt nervous. Maybe it was Kate’s description of him. The ruthless businessman she had talked about could be lurking beneath Davros’ gentleman-like exterior.

He looked back down at her. “It occurs to me that you might have a better insight into the inner workings. You haven’t always been in the music industry, you have a layman’s view of things, as it were.” He gestured at his car. “Why don’t you come with me to an early lunch. We could talk about your work here. I’d be very interested in hearing your point of view.”

Alarm bells were ringing inside Rose’s head, she didn’t want to go anywhere with this man. At the same time, however, she remembered what Kate had said at the taping - _Offend him and you’re through._ Saying no to Davros would be rude and what if he made things difficult for Paradox as a result?

Shifting her weight awkwardly, she pushed her hair behind one ear and nodded reluctantly. “Alright. Just let me text the Doctor and let him know I’ll be in to work later.”

He gave her the same disconcerting smile. “Of course. I’m delighted you agreed.”

Rose tapped out a quick message on her phone - _I’ll be in late, don’t worry about me_ \- then allowed Davros to open the back door of his town car for her. She attempted to push down the anxious feeling in her gut that told her this was a bad idea.

\---

“Oi, Henry,” said Jethro as he came into Midnight’s studio. The manager turned producer looked up from his tablet. “Is Rose taking meetings with another production company? I know you’re not working with Paradox now, but I thought you’d know…”

“What do you mean, taking meetings?” asked Van Statten.

“I saw her outside the building, getting into this posh car,” said Jethro, setting down his guitar case. “The bloke she was with gave me the creeps. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him in music industry mags, don’t remember his name, though. I know he doesn’t work here.”

Van Statten stood up. “What did he look like?” he asked, suspicions rising.

“Fancy suit, hair all slicked back, little blue eyes.” He shuddered. “He was giving the evils, I’m telling you.”

“And this was just now?”

“Yeah. Downstairs. Why?”

“Damn it!” He hurried for the door. “I’ve got to go.” Van Statten wasted no time in finding Kate and telling her what Jethro had seen.

The blood drained from Kate’s face. “Oh, God,” she said. “Davros wasn’t interested in me, he was trying to get to Rose!”

“We’ve got to call the Doctor,” said Van Statten, picking up Kate’s office phone, but she depressed the dial tone, preventing him from making the call.

“No,” she said, decisively. “If the Doctor finds out about this, he’ll go after Davros and if he does, then Paradox is through. Go back and get Midnight. We’ll find Rose ourselves, but we’ll need all the help we can get.”

She froze as the phone under her hand began to ring. Van Statten looked at the receiver he was still holding, then back to Kate, wordlessly handing it over. Swallowing thickly, Kate held it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Kate, it’s the Doctor.”

Her heart skipped a beat, then raced to catch up. “Yes?” she said, consciously modulating her tone to keep it sounding casual.

“Rose isn’t at home. I got a text from her saying she’ll be in late, but now she’s not picking up her mobile. Did she already come by the studio? Did she tell you anything?”

“Oh… ah… yes,” said Kate, looking over at Van Statten as she struggled to come up with a response. “She came by. Said she… had some important errands to run, but that she’d be back later to work. Not sure how long she’ll be, though.”

There was a pause over the line before the Doctor sighed. “Alright. Thanks.” He hung up.

Shakily, Kate replaced the receiver.

“I’m guessing that was the Doctor,” said Van Statten.

She nodded. “I think he knew I was lying.” She sat down at her computer and pulled up her address book. “Henry, I need you to get me a list of all of Davros’ addresses, and every studio Skaro currently has an interest in.”

As Van Statten left her office in a rush, she scrolled to the list she had of phone numbers connected to Skaro Productions. “God, I hope she’s okay,” Kate murmured. She knew exactly what Davros was capable of. She wouldn’t wish any of it on Rose.


	32. Forced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davros does what he feels he must to ensure that Paradox and the Doctor are put in their place, and Rose pays the price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER IS NSFW AND HAS GRAPHIC NON-CON. IF YOU STILL WANT TO READ IT, BUT DON’T WANT TO READ THAT, IT IS NOTED IN THE CHAPTER WHERE TO SKIP AND WHERE TO BEGIN READING AGAIN.

Despite the food being absolutely delicious, probably the best Rose had ever sampled, she was unable to eat very much of it. Davros had taken her to a very exclusive restaurant at the Dorchester across town, so exclusive that they were the only two dining. He’d reserved the entire place, just for their lunch. Rose felt incredibly underdressed in her plaid button down blouse and denim skirt.

They sat at a round table in the center of the dining room, surrounded by thousands of shimmering fiber-optic strands that formed a curtain of white light around them. So even if the restaurant hadn’t been empty, it felt as though they were sitting in a very private, enclosed space.

She felt that sitting there was designed to intimidate as much as it was to impress. The small area, suffused with enough light to make her feel like a spotlight was centered on them, coupled with the unnerving company of Davros himself, made her feel extremely self-conscious. There was nothing to deflect to as he asked her mundane questions about working as a lyricist and what she thought of the music industry, as well as a few personal questions about Paradox and the Doctor.

“Is the food not to your liking?” Davros asked, over the rim of his wineglass.

Rose crossed her cutlery over her plate. “No, it’s wonderful, I’m just not very hungry.” Her stomach was tied up in knots, it was daunting to sit across from someone so powerful, feeling like her every move was being scrutinized. Trying not to be too obvious, she checked her watch to see if enough time had passed that she could leave without being rude. It was with a deep sense of relief that she began to rise from the table. “I’m sorry, I should really be getting back to the studio…”

“No, not yet,” he said. “We haven’t had dessert.” He smiled and this time, the gesture seemed more sinister than just perturbing. “We’re only just getting started.”

She couldn’t help the chill that skittered between her shoulders. “I really am sorry,” she said, leaning down to collect her purse. “But the Doctor will be wondering where I am, so if you’ll excuse me…”

Suddenly, an arm shot around her middle from behind, pinning her arms down, and a thick cloth covered her nose and mouth, stifling her startled yelp. Rose tried to scream and struggle, but a sweet, pungent odor filled her lungs, fogging her mind, making her limbs slow and heavy. The cloth, she realized… it was coated with… something…

Davros sipped his wine, unconcerned. “Struggle if you must,” he said. “You’ll find that the people of this establishment mind their own business where I’m concerned.”

“W-why?” she managed to say, right before falling unconscious.

Dale shifted his grasp, dropping the chloroform soaked rag and lifting Rose over his shoulder. Davros gestured toward the exit and the assistant carried Rose off in that direction. Davros lifted another bite of his meal to his lips, taking the time to savor the perfectly crafted flavors. He intended to enjoy every moment of this.

\---

“Listen to me, I’m begging you!” said Kate, nearly shouting into her phone. “This is a very urgent matter! At least give me his mobile number--”

“Ma’am, I’ve already told you,” said the secretary on the other end of the line. “I am not permitted to give out the CEO’s personal information. If you’ll leave a message--”

“Never mind!” Kate snapped, slamming the phone into its cradle. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she moved to the next number on her list. Time was passing much too quickly. She picked up the phone again, but set it down when Van Statten came through the door. “Anything?”

“A group of industry execs were seen at a French restaurant across town, but the maitre’d wouldn’t name names,” he said, frowning.

“When was this?”

“Maybe an hour ago.”

“Shit!” Kate dragged her hands through her shoulder length blonde hair, her teeth clenched. “I’m done fucking around, I don’t care _who_ you have to threaten, find Davros!” She picked up the phone and began dialing. “I’m calling a car. I’m getting out there to look for her.”

“I’ve already got Jethro and the other kids doing that,” said Van Statten. Kate glared at him and he flinched back at the ferocity in her expression.

“Well, that’s obviously not good enough!” she said. “Keep on the phone and stay here in case she turns up. I know a few of Davros’ haunts. Or at least, he used them while I worked for him.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve got to try. We’ve _got_ to find her!”

\---

**SKIP HERE TO AVOID THE NONCON**

\---

Rose returned to consciousness slowly, her mind swimming hazily with the after-effects of the chloroform. She was lying on something soft, her fingers curling into an unfamiliar duvet. Opening her eyes, she blinked a few times to bring them into focus. She appeared to be in a posh hotel room and she sat up, trying to remember how she got there. Sitting up made her head pound and she groaned, placing a hand to her forehead.

“You’re awake.”

She looked in the direction of the voice and saw Davros rising from a plush armchair across the room, his tie and suit jacket removed. In a rush, the events of the day came back to her. Rose darted from the bed and lunged for the door, but her legs were still wobbly and she wasn’t as fast as she normally would be.

Davros grabbed her arm, surprisingly quick, and jerked her around to slam into the wall. Her breath rushed out of her. “You sense danger,” he said, smiling. “You’ve got good instincts. I’m glad. I like it better this way.” He leaned in, using the hand that wasn’t pinning her against the wall to stroke her face. “Tell me, honestly. Have you ever been with a man that wasn’t the Doctor?”

Heart pounding in fear, Rose thrashed to get away from him, but he grabbed her by both arms and threw her against the bed with startling strength. She landed half-on the mattress and scrambled backwards to try and gain her footing, but he pushed her, knocking her off-balance again, and then followed her down to straddle her waist, his smile remaining as she fought him with her fists, shouting _No,_ over and over. He didn’t seem frustrated with having to fight her, rather his face appeared flushed with pleasure.

“I just want you to know, this isn’t personal,” said Davros between grunts of effort to hold her down. “If you want someone to blame, blame the Doctor. He and Paradox needed to be put in their place.”

“Please, stop it!” Rose pleaded as he forced her wrists together so he could hold them down above her head with one hand.

His answer was to pull a short length of rope from his trouser pocket. He made short, efficient work of binding her wrists together despite her struggles, and she kicked her legs, trying to unseat him, but she only succeeded in jostling him a bit. Hot tears welled in her eyes, leaking from the corners and streaking back into her hair.

He lifted himself off of her, sitting back on his heels. Rose struggled to sit up a bit without the use of her arms, but the moment she drew up her legs to give him a good kick where he deserved it, he grabbed hold of her ankles, pulling her down towards him. He laughed when she called for the Doctor, for anyone, to come help her, as he reached under her skirt and gripped her knickers, pulling them hard enough for seams to pop while he worked them down her legs.

To get her completely free of the underwear, he had to let go of her for a moment, and in that brief second, Rose twisted, trying to roll off the bed and land on her feet. She’d only barely managed to touch the floor when Davros grabbed her by her hair, dragging her back. When she cried for the Doctor again, he pushed her face down into a pillow, muffling her pleas for help. Reaching around her torso, he grasped a handful of her blouse and ripped it open, the buttons popping off to land among the sheets.

“Crying for your white knight to come rescue you,” he sneered, shoving her bra up to bare her breasts. Letting go of her hair, he filled his palms with them, handling her nipples roughly, tweaking and pinching them mercilessly. He held her against him, grinding his erection in the cleft of her arse. “That’s so pathetic, it’s almost sweet.”

“Stop it!”

“Keep screaming if you like,” he said, completely indifferent of alerting anyone. “The harder you resist, the better it works for me. Keep saying his name, I like that.”

Rose bit her lip, uncertain if she should keep fighting and calling for help. The fucking bastard apparently got off on it, but it didn’t seem right to go limp and quiet and hope he’d lose interest.

He leaned closer, putting his mouth next to her ear. “How do you think the Doctor will take the news? Not well, I’m guessing.”

_Fuck it,_ she thought. _Fight him. He’s going for it either way._

She struggled anew, shaking the bed, screaming for someone to come help her. Davros only laughed again and gripped her hips, jerking her up onto her knees, then held her head down into the pillow again with one hand while he unfastened his trousers with the other.

“Well, that’s enough foreplay for me, how about you?” he mocked her.

Rose’s blood chilled to ice as she felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against her. “No! NO! _Please, no!”_

“Let’s just get on with it.”

Holding her forearms in an iron grip, he thrust inside her dry, unwilling channel. Oh, it _hurt._ Stretching her unprepared body until her inner walls burned. Her muscles clenched, wanting to keep the intruder out, but he only pounded into her harder, forcing her to take all of him. Rose howled in anguish. She felt like she was being rent in two. Davros’ weight on her back, his breathy grunts in her ear, it made her skin crawl. Her stomach twisted and heaved, making her feel like she would be sick. She wanted to be sick. Maybe then he would stop. _Please,_ let him stop.

“No, no, no…!” She repeated the word over and over. In her mind’s eye, she saw the Doctor, giving her that little smile, the one that was only for her. She’d never see that smile again. Not after he learned what happened. _God, please, no…_

\---

The Doctor opened the door to Kate’s office, only to find it empty. He panted, trying to catch his breath. The lift had taken ages, so he’d run all the way up the stairwell, unwilling to wait. He knew something was going on and he was determined to find out what. His brow furrowed as he glanced around the office, looking for a clue as to where the producer might be.

“Doctor? What are you doing here?”

He turned to see one of the interns in the hallway. What was his name? Jimmy? He couldn’t be bothered at the moment. “Where’s Kate?”

“Oh, she took off in kind of a rush--”

“Has Rose come back yet?”

The young man tilted his head. “Rose? She hasn’t been in today.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened. He ran for the stairwell, ignoring the intern calling after him.

\---

Rose cowered, shaking and crying, in the middle of the bed. She’d finally given up the fight once Davros had orgasmed. What was the point? The deed was done. She hadn’t even bothered to pull her clothing straight or to try and get her wrists untied.

Davros sat in the armchair once again, smoking a cigarette and stroking himself to get hard. His beady blue eyes never left the slumped figure on the bed. When she finally stirred, raising herself up on her elbows, he stubbed out his fag and rejoined her, pushing her back down.

“Oh, we’re not done yet, little Rose,” he crooned. Spitting in his palm, he pumped his cock a few more times, then probed her arsehole with the bell-end. “Tell me, has the Doctor ever played with you back here? Or will I be the first?”

“Please, stop,” she gasped. “You’re… hurting me…”

“I’m just giving you something to remember me by.”

She shrieked when he entered her, then sobbed, tears streaming down her face. The Doctor and she had done some anal play before, but this was just torture, plain and simple. “No! Nooo!” Her pleas dissolved into great, gasping heaves as she cried, hardly able to take in a full breath.

Davros ignored her, he kept pumping himself into her, keeping a bruising grip on her arms, her hips, anywhere he could reach, until he spent himself again. He let her slump back down on the bed as he stepped back. He smirked with satisfaction as he watched the milky fluid trickle out of her.

He took a few deep breaths as he pulled a couple tissues from the box next to the bed, cleaning himself off before tucking himself away. The exercise had winded him. There had been a time when he would have had another go, but he wasn’t as young as he used to be. Twice in one night was pushing it for his stamina. He just hoped his message had gotten across.

He dropped the used tissues on the mattress next to her. “Get dressed,” he said curtly, as he jerked the knot free in the rope holding her wrists before straightening his shirt and reaching for his jacket.

\---

**SAFE TO READ NOW**

\---

The Doctor turned down another side street, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of Rose. She still wasn’t answering her mobile and he was reluctant to call her mother in case he worried her for nothing, and he felt sure that Jack or Donna or the other band members would have called if Rose had gone by their places. He just kept driving. He knew it made no sense, but he couldn’t just sit at home and wait for her. He had to be out, looking for her.

Absently, he rubbed his chest, which had been tight ever since he’d left Kasterborous. Something was wrong, desperately wrong, he just knew it. He had to find her.

\---

Kate’s sharp eyes swept back and forth between the right and left sides of the street. She’d instructed her driver to go as slow as he possibly could without causing traffic problems as she coached him through the streets, looking for Davros’ car, anyone who looked familiar, or--

“Stop the car!” she shouted, barely waiting until it had come to a stop before flying out of the back door.

Rose was standing on the pavement, holding her shirt closed, her hair a wild mess and her makeup smeared across her face. Kate raced over, putting her hands on the younger girl’s shoulders as she stooped slightly to look at her.

“Oh, God, he just chucked you out into the street?” she exclaimed, horrified. “Rose, look at me-- Are you alright?”

But Rose didn’t respond. Her eyes were completely dead, utterly devoid of the vibrant spark that made her who she was. Gently, Kate drew her into a hug, squeezing her eyes shut. Silently, she loosed a string of the most vulgar curses she knew. She was too late.

\---

Kate called Van Statten from the car to bring the search to an end. He would tell Midnight that Rose had been found and they could all go home. She kept the details about Rose vague. The fewer people who knew what had happened, the better.

She had the driver drop them both off at Kate’s flat, where she led Rose in like a blind woman and sat her down on the sofa. She made them some tea, which Rose left untouched. Kate didn’t even know if Rose realized where she was.

“Rose, would you like to go take a shower?” Kate ventured. Again, nothing, no response. Kate sat gingerly next to her, pressing her lips together, trying to think of what she should do. Finally, she said, “Listen, you can pretend this never happened. You just need some time. I know it seems impossible right now, but…” She stopped and sighed, briefly dropping her forehead into her hand. “I have no idea what I’m saying. How would I know what you need?” She stood up. “Well, I know the Doctor’s got to be worried about you, so I’ll call and let him know you’re here--”

Suddenly, Rose’s eyes opened wide. “No! _No!”_ she shouted, grabbing her head. “No! I don’t want to see him! I can’t see the Doctor, I _can’t!”_ She wrapped her arms around herself, beginning to rock back and forth. “I… I tried to make it stop… I _tried…_ but… but… He was too strong… he tied me up… I couldn’t… he kept--”

“Stop it!” Kate sat back down, pulling Rose into her arms as gently as she could, despite how fiercely she spoke. “Stop blaming yourself! This is _not_ your fault! Do you hear me? It’s not your fault!”

Both women quieted and looked up as the doorbell rang, cutting through the tense atmosphere.

“Kate? It’s me,” came the Doctor’s voice. “Henry called me. Is…” He paused. “Is Rose in there with you?”

Kate looked at Rose, who had begun to shake, her eyes frozen on the door in fear, afraid to let him see her. Kate touched Rose’s hand, trying to reassure her. “It’s okay,” she murmured before standing up and going to the door. “Doctor?”

“Open the door, Kate.”

“Doctor, I need you to listen to me,” she said. “I need you to go and not ask questions. Just go. I’ll look after Rose and make sure she gets back to your place.”

“What’s going on?”

“Please don’t ask me that!” said Kate, a measure of desperation entering her tone.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” the Doctor demanded. The handle rattled as he tried the knob, but the locks were in place. He growled in frustration. “Open the bloody door!”

“Doctor, you _have_ to trust me! Rose doesn’t want to see you right now!”

His breath caught. “What…” He stood for a moment, utterly lost. “Why? What… did I do, Rose?” He touched the door, his fingers sliding gently over its surface as if it were her face. “Rose, what did I do?”

But no answer came. Stricken, he turned away from the door.

Rose had risen to her feet when she heard the Doctor’s heartbreaking question, but she hadn’t been able to make herself go over to the door or speak to him. She closed her eyes, covering her face with her hands. What was she supposed to do? She couldn’t go home with him, not ever again. She couldn’t let him see her. She knew she couldn’t handle that right now.

Falling to her knees, she sobbed as a fresh wave of tears overtook her.

She allowed Kate to eventually help her up from the floor, allowed herself to be led into the shower, clothes and all. She didn’t care. She never wanted to see those clothes again.

Kate helped Rose out of her clothing, piece by piece, trying not to stare at the numerous bruises all over her body, then left the bathroom to change out of her own wet clothes. Rose turned down the cold water, making the shower as hot as she could stand it, then took a flannel and scrubbed herself, over and over, wishing she could scrape her own skin off. She kept washing until the hot water had long run out and Kate returned to coax her out of the shower. She helped Rose to dry off and dressed her in one of her own nightshirts like a doll, then sat her on the edge of the bed and plaited her hair.

“Are you going to take me to the police?” asked Rose, her first words since her hysterical outburst.

Kate felt a stab of anguish. “We can do that,” she said. “But…” She sighed, hating that she knew this, “Rose, Davros is very powerful, he has many, many connections, and he’s… done this before. I’m not sure if telling the police would help you.”

She thought Rose might start crying again, but she just hung her head, the dead expression coming back into her eyes. Kate knelt on the bed next to Rose, taking one of her hands in her own.

“Rose, this is probably the worst thing to ask you, but… I know Davros’ methods and I have to know-- Are you on the pill?”

Her head shot up, her eyes wide. Evidently, she hadn’t even thought about that, nor would Kate have expected her to after the trauma she’d been put through, but fortunately, Rose nodded vigorously, giving Kate a modicum of relief.

“Good,” she said, letting out a breath. “But I want to give you the morning after pill, just in case. It’ll make you feel lousy, but hopefully, you’ll sleep through it. I can arrange for an appointment to have you seen by my women’s health expert later on, if you want.”

She fetched the pill from the stash she kept under her bathroom sink, and a glass of water. Rose downed them both eagerly. Kate looked down at the girl’s face, scrubbed red and raw from crying, misery twisting her stomach as she wished she could be of more help.

Kate sighed again, feeling utterly helpless. “Come on, you should try to get some rest,” she said, turning back the covers of the bed. “We’ll figure out what to do later. Maybe tomorrow, it’ll seem like a bad dream.” She helped Rose get settled and then pulled the covers over her, frowning. “Even if it doesn’t, even if it _never_ does, I’m on your side. Always. I promise you’re safe here.”

\---

In the morning, Kate stepped outside to fetch her newspaper and startled when she saw a man sleeping on her front stoop. Her jaw dropped when he lifted his head and she realized it was the Doctor. He’d never left.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, closing her door behind her. “What if someone sees you?”

His face was paler than normal, deep circles lay under his bloodshot eyes. “Why?” he asked, his voice rough. “Why will she see you, but not me?”

She sighed. “Because she loves you, you idiot.” Dragging a hand through her hair, she checked her watch. “You have work today. You need to be the Doctor from Paradox. Better for you to let me worry about Rose right now.”

She went back inside and headed for her mobile, hoping the Doctor would do as she said.

\---

Kate called Romana to come by her flat and stay with Rose while Kate went to fulfill her role as Paradox’s producer. She’d almost called Van Statten, but Kate was fairly certain that Rose didn’t want to see _anyone_ male at the moment. She was hoping Rose would just sleep through the day, but figured Romana was a safe choice in case she woke up.

Paradox only had one gig to do that day, a brief stint on an interview show, and Kate hoped it would be over with quickly so she could return to Rose and see how she was faring. She knew the young woman wouldn’t be feeling better so soon, but she had to stay optimistic. She had to try.

During the taping, the Doctor might as well have been made of wood. He sat stoically while the other band members were animated. He didn’t laugh along with them or even smile. He deflected all questions about his childhood to Donna and Jack ended up having to fill time with some of his more raunchy stories.

Kate crossed her arms and pursed her lips as she stood near the back of the set, frowning. She was already worried about Rose, she didn’t need to be worried about her band at the same time.

“My, my.”

She startled as Davros’ voice sent ice through her heart and fire in her gut. Kate clenched her hands into fists as she turned to face the man she’d once respected.

He smiled in the face of her outraged glare. “It appears the Doctor is a bit worse for wear today. I wonder what happened.”

Kate shook with the effort of holding back the punch she so desperately wanted to throw. “You… How could you?”

He laughed. “Please. If you want to scare me, you’ll have to try a little harder than that. If you have something you want to say, Kate, by all means, say it.”

She hesitated, seriously contemplating letting it all out right then. But she let out a breath and stepped back, putting more distance between them to help take away the temptation. “No,” she said, finally. “No, I won’t.” She stood straight and tall, looking him right in the eye. “But not out of fear.”

He scoffed. “Oh, no?”

“No,” she confirmed. “I won’t be the one to make you answer for what you did. I don’t deserve that privilege.”

Davros laughed as he turned and left the studio.

Kate shook her head, her nostrils flaring. He’d get what was coming to him, of that she was sure. She looked over at her band, where it seemed like the interview was wrapping up. She just hoped that when the Doctor was through making Davros pay, there would be enough left of the musician’s soul to put back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hurt me. I promise to have the next chapter up ASAP.


	33. Quit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and the Doctor are lost without their anchor. Rose makes a despair-filled choice and the Doctor has nothing left to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a suicide attempt. If this is a trigger for you but you would still like to read, skip from the beginning to the first page break.

Kate returned to her flat to find an extremely worried Romana waiting for her. She hadn’t been able to convince Rose to eat anything all day. Kate thanked the producer and sent her off, reassuring her that she’d make sure Rose ate something.

Entering her bedroom, she found the room dark with the shades drawn and Rose sitting in a corner on the floor, all huddled up with a blanket wrapped around her. Just staring into space. Kate knelt down in front of her, slowly reaching for Rose’s hands, which were clenched into the blanket and cold to the touch. Rose reluctantly let go of the blanket, allowing Kate to rub some warmth back into her fingers.

“How about some dinner, eh?” asked Kate with a little smile. “Might help you feel better.”

Rose didn’t respond right away, but she looked up at last. “Thank you,” she murmured. The spark was still missing from her eyes, but Kate figured they had to start somewhere.

She nodded and stood up, helping Rose to her feet as well. “Why don’t you wash your face while I cook. I’ll make you a nice cuppa and you can meet me in the kitchen if you feel up to it. No pressure.”

Rose turned and headed for the ensuite, taking the blanket with her. Kate sighed, running a hand over her face. She just wished she knew what to do, other than be there for Rose. Contrary to the beliefs of some, a cup of tea couldn’t fix everything.

Shutting the bathroom door behind her, Rose dropped the blanket onto the closed lid of the toilet seat and padded over to the sink. She stared at her reflection for an interminable moment. She looked wrecked. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot, her hair was a rat’s nest from not brushing it, her nose was bright red, her face felt raw from all the tears. But that was nothing compared to how she felt on the inside.

She’d tried to forget the ordeal, tried to pretend it was a bad dream, like Kate said. But the pain she felt from the bruises, the stomach cramps and nausea that had sent her running to the loo only to dry heave, her body refused to let her forget. She just wanted to make it stop, the pain under her skin, that radiated from her heart. How could she ever make it stop?

Her eyes fell on a bottle of cold medicine on the counter. _Make it stop._ She picked it up, looking at the bright green pills through the clear plastic container. _Make it go away._ The lid came off. The pills were so small. It would be so easy. _Make it all go away._

Kate startled as she heard a loud thud from the direction of the bedroom. Concerned, she picked up the mug of tea she’d made and went to the bathroom door to check on her house guest.

“Rose?” she queried, knocking lightly on the door. “You alright?” Nervous about the lack of response, she tried the handle and was relieved to find it unlocked. “I’m coming in.”

Pushing open the door, Kate gasped, the mug of tea falling from her hand to land with a clattering crack on the tile, sending hot tea and broken shards everywhere. Heedless of the mess, she skidded to her knees next to the unconscious form of Rose, sprawled on the floor of the loo.

“Rose? Rose!” she cried, shaking the girl’s shoulder. “Rose, oh God, what did you do?”

She didn’t see any blood, but a tiny splash of color caught her eye and she looked to see a few shiny green pills spilled on the floor around Rose’s body. Panic racing through her bloodstream, Kate scrambled for her pockets to find her mobile, dialing emergency services as quickly as her shaking hands would allow.

\---

The Doctor sat on the sofa in Their Flat’s living room, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs, his fingers laced except for his index fingers, which he tapped rhythmically against his lips. He stared at the little box on the coffee table, containing the engagement ring he had yet to present to Rose. It seemed to take up the whole room.

He glanced next to the box, where his mobile lay. He wanted to try calling her, to see if she would be willing to talk to him now, if she would at least say what was wrong. Kate wanted him to let _her_ worry about Rose. It was an impossible task.

He jolted as his mobile suddenly began to ring while he was looking at it and he let out a breath as he picked it up, feeling ridiculous for startling so easily. “Hello?”

“Doctor, it’s Kate. I… You need to come to the hospital.”

He got to his feet, heart starting to pound. “What?”

“It’s Rose.”

\---

He ran from the car into the hospital, ignoring every nurse and orderly who called after him, telling him not to run. As if they could stop him. He ran up flights of stairs, not willing to wait for the lift, his lungs burning from the exertion, but he didn’t care. He didn’t stop until he saw Kate, who was sitting in a hallway outside of a private room, her shoulders slumped, her hands clasped between her knees.

“What the hell happened?” he demanded as he skidded to a stop. “Where is she? Is she okay?” He dragged in deep lungfuls of air to catch his breath, but his heart was still racing.

Kate’s gaze stayed on the tile floor as she quietly spoke, “She tried to overdose on cold medicine. She’ll be fine, the doctors took care of her. She’s sleeping now.”

“Why?” he asked, stricken.

“It’s my fault.” She lifted her tormented eyes to meet the Doctor’s. “Rose was…” She let out a shaky breath. “She was raped.”

The Doctor felt his world grind to a slow halt as a buzzing filled his ears, soft at first, then growing in intensity. His whole body started to tremble. “W-what?” he choked out.

“His name is Davros. He’s a very successful businessman and very powerful. Paradox’s success offended him and he decided to teach you a lesson. To get to you, he--” Her voice cut out on a sob and she hunched in on herself, squeezing her eyes shut. “I shouldn’t have tried to hide it from you… I thought I was doing my job, but…” She shook her head. “I was wrong to think I could console her,” she said, leaning her forehead against her folded hands. “Thinking that I could understand even a tiny bit of what she was going through. She didn’t need me. She needed you. She _needs_ you.”

The Doctor touched Kate’s shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze. “It wasn’t your job to keep her safe,” he said, his voice a rough whisper. “It was mine.”

He turned and entered the door Kate sat in front of, where the marker read _R. Tyler_ in red pen. The room was quiet, only the steady beep of the heart monitor pierced the silence, and dark except for a dim light on the wall next to the bed. Rose lay still beneath the blankets, her skin pale with dark circles beneath her eyes. Even in the semi-darkness, he could see bruises all along her arms where the hospital gown didn’t cover her.

“Oh, God,” he whispered, barely able to get the words out. His eyes filled with tears as he dropped down on his knees beside the bed. “Why?” He bent his head over her hand, pressing it to his lips as the tears fell, wetting her skin. “Oh, Rose… All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. I swore I’d protect you, but I couldn’t--” He choked, gulping back a sob. “I couldn’t even do _that_ much!”

He lifted his head, reaching out to cup her cheek, tracing the curve of it with his thumb. “What should I do? What do you want me to do? I-- I’m so lost without you, Rose… Please…”

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, one hand holding hers, the other in her hair as he cried, letting the blanket absorb the tears. The next thing he was aware of was Kate’s hand on his shoulder, startling him out of his grief.

“We have to go,” she said, regretfully. “We can’t cancel a live broadcast.” She shook her head as she looked at his red tear-stained face. “You’re going to need a lot of makeup.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any point in telling you I want to stay here, is there?” he asked in a raw, low voice as he got to his feet. He scrubbed at his face with the sleeve of his jacket, his eyes still on Rose.

“I’m sorry, Doctor,” Kate said. “I really am. But try to think of all the people waiting in front of their televisions for you. What you mean to them. I’ve already told the nurses to keep an extra close watch on her, no one comes in who isn’t us or her mother.”

Reluctantly, he let himself be pulled away from the bed, from the room, and eventually from the hospital. Let himself be driven away to a television studio because he had responsibilities to fulfill. He had a band depending on him. He had fans who loved him and were counting on seeing him. But his mind was still there in that darkened room, with Rose. Always with her.

\---

Amy worked her magic with makeup and by the time she was through, it was hardly noticeable how upset the Doctor had been, if not for his grief-stricken expression. Donna took him aside to ask what was wrong, but he just shook his head. He couldn’t talk about it, not without falling apart again, and they were about to go on live television.

He didn’t even hear when the presenter announced them, he just followed his bandmates onto the stage when they went on. He tried to push down the ache he felt inside, the worry he felt for the woman he loved. He felt the heat of the lights shining down on him and tried to let the glare drown out the image of her face. He picked up the microphone as the band played the introduction to the opening song, tried to call up his stage presence like he always did. He took a deep breath for the first phrase…

And nothing came out. He stood frozen in the spotlight. The band played for another few bars, then slowly came to a halt, unsure of what to do after their singer missed his cue. They looked at him and then each other, confused.

“Doctor,” hissed Jack. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you singing?”

He couldn’t. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered if he couldn’t protect the one person in his life that he needed more than air to sing.

“What the hell?” exclaimed the stage manager in a furious whisper to Kate. “The Doctor’s just standing there! We’ve got dead air! _Somebody_ say something!”

Kate held out a hand to the Doctor, entreating, “Doctor… please…”

He shook his head. “I can’t.” He looked up into the nearest camera, his face full of grief, his eyes betraying how heart-sick he felt. “I can’t sing… I can’t--” He took a step back, covering his mouth with his free hand. His fingers were shaking. “I can’t do this anymore,” he said, finally. “I quit.”

The band surrounding him exploded in simultaneous reactions. The men crowded around the Doctor, asking him what he thought he was doing, while Donna threw her drumsticks across the stage and stood up from behind her drumset. She was fuming as she came around to challenge him.

“What the bloody hell do you mean, you quit?” she demanded.

“Give me a tight close-up on the Doctor’s face!” the stage manager instructed the lead camera, obviously realizing they were witnessing music industry history.

The Doctor replaced the mic into the stand and spoke directly into it. “Ladies and gentlemen, I quit. As of today, I am no longer a part of Paradox.”

When he left the set, the rest of the band followed him, still wanting answers and talking all at once. The very flustered television presenter was all but pushed onto the stage and took the show to commercial while the crew assembled an emergency reel to play in lieu of Paradox’s performance.

Kate followed after her band to their large dressing room and closed the door behind them. Knowing they were about to have it out with the Doctor, she wanted as few witnesses as possible. She stood there with her back against the door as the band closed in around their singer.

“Doctor,” said Jack, “what’s all this about?”

“Yeah,” said Mickey, “you can’t just spring something like this on us!”

“And on live telly!” added Rory.

“I’m sorry,” said the Doctor quietly. He took off the long leather duster he was wearing and draped it over the sofa in the middle of the room, then picked up the t-shirt he’d been wearing earlier. “I can’t go to New York with you,” he said as he pulled on his street clothes. “You’ll have to find someone else.” He didn’t bother changing out of his leather trousers, it would just take too long, but he paused as he grabbed his jacket, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “Thank you. For everything.”

“John, what the hell!” said Donna, getting in his way when he would have left the room. “No, absolutely not! You can’t just quit! There’s no way we’re going to New York without you! I refuse! I won’t do it!”

The Doctor just pressed his lips together sadly, then moved around his half-sister and looked at Kate who was still in front of the door. Without a word, she stepped aside and let him leave, grabbing Donna’s shoulder when she would have gone after him.

“I think you all need to hear something,” said Kate, gravely. She had them all sit down so she could explain what had happened with Rose and Davros as briefly as possible. When she’d finished, no one said a word for a long moment.

“That’s fucked up,” said Mickey, finally.

“That’s putting it mildly,” said Jack, running a hand through his black hair. “No wonder the Doctor freaked.”

“So what do we do?” asked Amy, sitting next to Rory and holding his hand.

Rory shook his head. “I don’t-- I don’t think he’s coming back.”

Mickey got to his feet. “Shut it, that’s bollocks!” he snapped. “The Doctor’s not _really_ gonna quit! He wouldn’t!”

“Mickey’s right,” said Donna. “That’s exactly what Davros wants, isn’t it, Kate?”

The producer nodded. “But there’s nothing I can do. If we go up against Skaro, Paradox will lose. And so will Midnight and all of Kasterborous’ other artists. Davros decides life and death in the UK music industry.” She folded her hands to stop them from trembling. She was so angry. “There’s nothing we can do.”

Jack sat back in his folding chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not necessarily,” he said, slowly.

The group leaned toward him, eager for anything that would mean the situation wasn’t as dire as they thought. “What’s your idea, Jack?” asked Donna.

“Fight power with power,” he said. “It’s not like we’ve never played dirty before. If Davros owns the UK, then we’ll think bigger. Somebody somewhere is big enough to crush him. And I think I know who.”

Kate sat up straight, her eyes going wide. “Jack, you don’t mean--”

He nodded seriously, his violet-blue eyes betrayed no twinkle of amusement. “He’s our only option.”

The door burst open and everyone turned to see the stage manager standing in the doorway, his hands full of bright yellow post-it notes. “Ms. Stewart, you’ve got to do something! The phones are ringing off the hook, the fans and press are hysterical, everyone wants to know what’s going on with the Doctor and Paradox. We’ve told them to contact your company, but the calls just keep coming. You’ve got to give me something to tell them, some kind of statement, or they’re going to start making things up!”

“Fine,” said Kate, getting to her feet and putting on her professional face. “Here’s your statement: Complications have arisen as a result of Paradox switching labels. Until these issues are resolved, the band is officially on hiatus.”

“Switching labels?”

She nodded and headed out of the dressing room, the stage manager trailing after her. “I’m leaving to negotiate it right now.”

“What label are they switching to?”

“Masterworks Productions.”

\---

The Doctor shifted his weight restlessly in the back of the taxi. He’d asked the driver to get to the hospital as fast as possible, but it was still taking too long. He needed to see her.

His mind and heart were hopelessly muddled, churning endlessly in turmoil. Singing had been his lifeline for so long. Music had fed his malnourished soul, had brought him back from the edge of despair. But he couldn’t sing now. If it meant putting Rose in danger, he didn’t care if he never sang again. All that mattered to him was protecting her smile.

He dropped his head in his hand as tears welled in his eyes again. He wondered when it had happened, when she had changed him so much. When his mother had died, he swore he’d be strong, that he’d never cry again, that he’d never love again. It was how he’d survived.

And then he found Rose. And she’d crashed through all the walls he’d built around his heart.

What had made him think that this time could be any different?

When he finally entered her hospital room, he paused just inside the door, taking the moment to breathe the same air as her, to memorize the electric feel under his skin when he was near her. He wondered if she would be angry with him once she found out what he’d done. He only wished he’d done it sooner, so he could have spared her being used as a pawn in such a cruel game.

“I won’t ask for your forgiveness,” he said softly, moving to stand next to her bed. “But… if we find each other again… if you still want me…” He reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved the ring box, opening it one more time to look at the token inside. “If we can still be together… we’ll lead a quiet life. No more spotlights and fame. Just the two of us.” He closed the box and set it beside her hand. Gently, he brushed the hair from her forehead and leaned down to press a lingering kiss above her brow. “I love you, Rose,” he whispered. “I will always love you.”

He straightened and paused, but there was nothing left to say. Going to the door, he looked at her sleeping form one last time before closing it behind him. “Goodbye.”

The clatch of the door shutting pulled Rose from her sleep and she took a deep breath before opening her eyes. “Doctor?” she murmured.

Frowning, she glanced around the empty room, then sighed. She must have been dreaming. It felt stupid to dream that things could be the same between them, after what had happened, but even so, a part of her never wanted to wake up. She wanted to keep dreaming of their life before.

Something dark on her pale blanket caught her eye and she pressed the button to make the bed sit up in order to get a better look. A small box, about the size of her palm, was sitting next to her thigh and she picked it up, curiously. Opening it, her eyes widened at the sight of a beautiful silver filigree ring, set with a round diamond and flanked with two deep sapphires.

She knew immediately that she hadn’t been dreaming. This was an engagement ring and the Doctor had been the one to leave it for her. She covered her mouth to hold back a sob, but her vision blurred with tears all the same.

He still wanted her. Even now, when she was so afraid to live, afraid to die, afraid to let him see her. She felt like an utter coward, because no matter how tight he held her and promised her that his feelings hadn’t changed, she knew she wouldn’t be able to trust what she felt. She would second-guess every look he gave her, every touch. She’d wonder if he was thinking of _him._

She couldn’t face that. It was too late for them. She couldn’t go back to who she was. She would never be the girl he fell in love with again. And this ring… it was meant for her.

Letting the tears stream down her face unchecked, she closed the box and set it aside.

\---

Kate was only able to get a phone appointment with Harold Saxon, he was out of the country on business, but he’d set aside time to talk to her once he’d found out what she wanted. “We’re good to go, then?” she asked, tapping her pen against the pad of paper she’d been writing down the contract terms on. “Yes. I understand. And you accept our terms as well?” She nodded, but didn’t smile. “Good. Send the paperwork as soon as you can. Thank you very much.”

She hung up her mobile and set it down, next to an evening edition of the paper. The press had jumped all over the story of the Doctor’s resignation, of course, and the headlines reflected that in stark black and white. Angrily, Kate crumpled the paper and threw it across the room. It bounced harmlessly against a wall and did nothing to soothe her mood.

“Davros is _not_ going to get away with this,” she promised herself.

\---

“Sir, you can’t go in there without an appointment!” cried Davros’ personal secretary as the Doctor strode past her desk without even a glance.

The powerful mogul looked up in surprise as his office door banged open to admit the musician. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Paradox’s _former_ vocalist,” he said with a mocking smile. “I heard about you walking out on your last performance. Artists can be so rash sometimes, can’t they?” He waved his secretary out, eager to gloat over his victory, and she closed the door behind her. Folding his hands loosely, he leaned forward. “So, what can I do for you?”

The Doctor stopped just in front of the desk. “I think you’ve done enough. I quit the band and I quit her,” he said, his voice low, but his eyes burning with an intense energy. “And I will not rest until you’ve paid for what you’ve done.”

“Is that so?” asked Davros, highly amused. “Am I supposed to be worried now?” He slammed a hand down on his desk. “I _own_ this industry. You are _no one._ If I choose to, I can destroy you and no one would stop me.”

The Doctor smirked, a dry, humorless laugh falling from his lips as he reached into his jacket pocket. “Save it. You can’t threaten a man who has nothing left to lose.” Davros startled, pushing back his office chair as the Doctor aimed a revolver directly at him and pulled back the hammer. “You brought this on yourself. You made me your enemy. And now you’re going to die for what you did!”

Breathing tightly through clenched teeth, his eyes were bright with amber fire as he pulled the trigger.


	34. Stronger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor takes Rose far away, so they can both begin to heal.

A rough, half-hysterical chuckle emerged from between the Doctor’s maniacally clenched teeth as Davros staggered out of his chair, clutching at his left bicep. Dark red blood oozed around his fingers and the Doctor’s pulse jumped at the sight, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

“You didn’t think it would be easy, did you?” he mocked the older man as he pulled back the hammer on the revolver again. “One little bullet, quick and painless? Oh, no. We’re taking this slow. I’m giving you the death you deserve.”

He paused as Davros, incredibly, began to laugh himself. “It’s just killing you that she’s following in your mother’s footsteps, isn’t it? You’ve never forgiven yourself for being the product of your mother’s rape.” He smirked. “Wondering if you’ll soon see a little blue-eyed bastard in your future?”

The Doctor shook with rage and he clasped the gun in both hands to steady his aim. “You’re _done,”_ he spat out. “I’m gonna kill you!”

The door to the office burst open and the Doctor turned, hiding the revolver behind his back. He’d hoped to have a little more time before the secretary came in again, but then, he supposed he should have realized that the gunfire would attract attention. He blamed his tumultuous emotions for the oversight.

To the surprise of both men, it wasn’t the secretary in the doorway, but half a dozen men in cheap, but serviceable suits. “Mr Davros?” said the one at the fore. “We’re from Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs.” He held up a document. “We have a warrant to search these offices for evidence of tax evasion.”

Davros startled, momentarily forgetting about the bleeding wound in his arm. “What? You have no proof!”

“We’re here to _find_ proof, sir,” said the man in a bored tone. He gestured to two of the men, who came forward to flank Davros. “Why don’t you two take him to A &E, as Mr Davros appears to be in need of medical services, while we start with his accounting department.”

Davros shook his good arm out of the businessman’s grip. “I demand to speak with your superiors! I have powerful friends in high places!”

“You’d be wise to co-operate, sir,” said the man who again took his arm and began pulling him out of the office.

“Look, if a little money will make this problem go away--”

Another man appeared in the doorway of the office, whose smooth voice sent a cold chill through the Doctor. “Tsk, tsk,” said Harry Saxon, crossing his arms. “Are you offering a _bribe_ to an official of Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs?” He shook his head. “That wouldn’t be wise. Nor would it be wise to take on Masterworks Productions.”

“Harry?” breathed the Doctor, bewildered at his brother’s presence.

“What interest do you have--” began Davros, only to be cut off by Harry.

“I suppose you haven’t heard,” he said, flicking imaginary lint from his sleeve. “It is rather sudden news. Paradox has moved to Masterworks. And when one of our artists is being harassed, I have a duty to respond.” He gestured to the businessmen dismissively and they hustled Davros out of the office, all while the man shouted threats and demanded to see his lawyer.

Left alone, the two half-siblings observed each other, tension crackling between them as the Doctor’s anger redirected itself. He’d been robbed of the vengeance he’d sought, and at Harry’s behest, no less.

“That wasn’t your place,” he snarled, darting forward to shove the shorter man, the revolver still in his hand. “I didn’t want your help!”

Harry grabbed the Doctor’s arm and twisted it to subdue him, easily taking away the gun with his other hand. “You idiot, waving around things you barely know how to handle,” he said. Letting go of the Doctor, he carefully uncocked the revolver and checked the make. “It’s a wonder this thing could even fire, it’s from World War II.”

“It was my grandfather’s, he took care of it,” the Doctor mumbled, rubbing his wrist. “Why didn’t you stay out of my way?”

“You think this is about you?” asked Harry. “This is business. I own Paradox, which means I own _you._ So, you’ll do as I say, if you know what’s good for you.” He slipped the gun into the inner pocket of his jacket and straightened his tie. “Of course, you’re of no real value to me at the moment.”

“Good,” said the Doctor. “Then stay out of this.”

He made a move to walk past Harry, but turned back when Harry called his name. He surprised the Doctor by belting him one, narrowly missing his left eye, and landing solidly on his cheek. The Doctor staggered back, stunned, allowing Harry to grab him by the lapels of his jacket and shove him against the nearest wall.

“Is _this_ what you think it means to be a man?” Harry demanded. “Is this what you do when someone you love is hurt?”

“Yes!” the Doctor shouted back. “This is my way! I’m trying to protect her!”

“No, you’re not!” said Harry with another shove against the wall. “I know what you’re like when you’re being protective. This…” He shook his head. “This is something else.”

The Doctor paused, narrowing his eyes slightly as he looked at his brother. “Do you still--?”

Harry let go of him then, turning away and straightening his jacket. “No,” he said, more quietly. “I have a woman of my own to protect now. However,” he looked back at the Doctor with stunning sincerity, “I loved her once. And I don’t relish her pain now. That’s all.” He tilted his head toward the door. “Go. Be with Rose. I’ll deal with Davros.”

The Doctor watched in silence as his brother left the office. He looked down at his hands. Hands that had so recently held a deadly weapon, one that he’d delighted in using to torment, and had intended to kill with. He dragged his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes. Even with all he’d done, all he’d endured, and everything his loved ones had gone through, he’d never considered taking a life before. Had he really fallen so far, that _Harold Saxon_ had to pull him back from the edge?

\---

Sitting at her window, Rose was watching people come and go from the hospital as she waited for Kate to come pick her up. She felt horrible for leaning on Kate like this, Rose knew how busy the producer was, but she couldn’t go home to the Doctor. She just couldn’t face him.

Hearing the door click open behind her, Rose stood up and turned, but instead of Kate, the Doctor stood in the doorway. Her heart thudded in her throat as everything but him faded into the background. His hair was disheveled as if he’d been tugging at it and his eyes held a glimmer of desperation, but to her, he looked amazing. When he came forward and wrapped his arms around her, she found herself melting into his embrace, burying her nose against his shoulder, breathing in his scent, feeling his good, solid warmth. It almost made her want to cry, she’d missed him so badly.

“Rose,” he said, with such longing. The fingers of one hand buried in her hair as he laid kisses to her crown. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s okay. You don’t need to tell me anything. I just want to take you away. Far away from here.”

Her muscles went rigid as she suddenly remembered her fear, why she didn’t want to see him. “No!” she cried. She pushed against his chest and he easily let her go. She backed away from him. “I-- I can’t! Doctor, I’m… not the same as I used to be.” She turned her head, not wanting to look at him, not wanting to see how she was reflected in his amber eyes. She was so scared to know what he saw when he looked at her.

“Rose.”

She gasped as his hand touched her cheek, but he didn’t force her to turn and look at him, just caressed her face, so gently.

“I will always be by your side,” he promised. “No matter what. _Nothing_ could change how I feel about you.”

Her resolve softened at his tender vow and, encouraged by his sweet touches, she peeked up at him. She lost herself in his smile, in the sincerity of his straightforward, clear gaze as he said, “I love you. I will always love you.”

She threw herself back into his arms. She believed him. Of course she did. She wondered how she could have doubted him as he kissed her, slowly, without seeking to deepen it, just a long, soulful kiss, an exchange of his breath for hers.

She wished she could take it all back, that they could go back to the way things were before. But since neither of them possessed a time machine, there was only one way for them to go.

Forward.

When Kate came to pick Rose up from the hospital, she was told that Rose had departed earlier that day with the Doctor. When she stopped by Their Flat, she found the door unlocked.

Every room was empty. Just large expanses of hardwood flooring without any furniture or, more importantly, the people she was looking for.

\---

The stone cottage on the windswept hill was much smaller than either of the London flats Rose had lived in with the Doctor, but a bit bigger than the council flat she’d shared with her mum. She assured the Doctor that it was charming, that the other places had been much too large. This cottage in the Scottish Highlands was perfect for them. A little secret hideaway, the perfect place to start over.

She didn’t name it anything. The girl who’d once bestowed silly titles on where she lived had been left in London. The cottage didn’t need a capitalized name to be what it was - theirs.

The place was fairly secluded, at the end of a dirt road on a hill overlooking the ocean. There were no fancy cars zooming around, the Tardis parked out back looked remarkably conspicuous, but they didn’t intend to use her much, since the town was walking distance away. No grand piano loomed in their living room, no CDs cluttered the counter space, there was no television, or DVDs, or magazines. It was a far cry from what they’d both become accustomed to.

“What about Paradox?” she’d asked him.

He’d paused, then smiled. “I’ve got some time off, don’t worry.”

So, she didn’t worry. They went for walks along the cold windy beach and picked fresh heather from the fields. The Doctor chopped wood for their fire and cuddled her under their mound of blankets in the chill of the night. He never pressed her to make love, though they kissed and touched often. He always made sure she felt safe and loved and secure, that when he held her, she knew she was with him, the Doctor, and no one else, and he’d never do anything to hurt her.

Living such a dream-like existence, Rose could almost believe that what had happened to her had just been a horrible nightmare. She clung to that, she didn’t want to think about the past. She didn’t really want to think of anything beyond the here and now. It didn’t matter that what they were doing wasn’t their real life, she didn’t care if they were just pretending nothing had happened. She was happy. She took the Doctor’s hand and ran as far away from reality as they could.

Still, it was hard for her to break away from old habits. When she went shopping for groceries at the nearby town, she found herself automatically scanning the news agent to see if they had any music magazines. She shook herself and took a step back. She wasn’t ready.

She passed by the man operating the booth, where he was currently handling a sale with a girl a bit younger than Rose. “Still hoping for news on that band, eh?” he said in a thick Scottish brogue with a smile. “Thought you’d be by. There’s an article on ‘em this week.”

“Does it say if the Doctor is coming back to Paradox?” the girl asked, taking the proffered magazine from the man.

Rose froze, then pivoted swiftly and went back to the news agent, grabbing a copy of the magazine they were talking about for herself. Her heart pounded hard in her chest as she found the article in question, the title standing out in big block letters: _Paradox Changes Labels - The Doctor Leaves The Band!_

With shaking fingers, she handed over payment for the magazine and trudged on, her eyes glued to the words on the glossy pages as she headed in the direction of the cottage. Her mind was no longer on the shopping list in her pocket. She couldn’t believe that the Doctor had quit. He’d told her he had some time off, but she didn’t think he meant _this!_

 _It’s all my fault,_ she thought. _He did it for me because he feels responsible for what happened._

She felt sick. This changed everything. She couldn’t let herself feel happy about their time here when she had been the cause of Paradox breaking up. She’d taken him away from his sister, his friends… She’d taken the music away from the Doctor. She didn’t think she could forgive herself.

\---

A pint of dark lager was set on the bar in front of the Doctor, who pressed his lips together in a smile. “Cheers, mate,” he said, taking a sip of the bitter ale.

The bartender nodded, but lingered in front of the Doctor. “Hey, uh, me ‘n the boys have a little bet going, would you mind settling it?” At his shrug, the bartender grinned and aimed his thumb over to the end of the bar where a few men were sitting and watching their conversation. A couple of them lifted their own pints in salute. “My friend over there thinks that you’re the lead singer for that popular band down in London. Whatssit called? Pair of… something?” He shook his head. “Anyway, are you him?”

The Doctor’s smile stayed on his face, though the look in his eyes turned a bit wistful. “Sorry, no,” he answered. “But people say I look like him.”

“Ha!” said the bartender, banging his fist on the bar. He pointed down at the group of friends, several of whom groaned. “You’re out a fiver, Colin, me boy!” He smiled back at the Doctor. “I told him he was daft. What would a rock star be doing in a place like this, eh?”

The Doctor didn’t respond and the bartender moved away, letting him enjoy his lager in peace. No, he wasn’t the singer for Paradox. Not anymore.

Someone sat down on the barstool next to his with a feminine sigh. “Oh, please,” the woman said. “Who do you think you’re kidding?” He turned in surprise to see Kate sitting at the bar. She smirked. “Found you.”

He shook his head, turning back to his beer. “Well, that didn’t take long. And after all the trouble I went to.”

“You can hide, but you can’t disappear.” She leaned her elbow on the bar and tapped her chin. “What was it Saxon called you? ‘A stray dog of the highest pedigree.’”

He rolled his eyes. “Harry’s idea of a compliment, I suppose.”

“Well, come on,” she said. “We should leave Scotland before you really do become a stray.” Kate made to get up, but the Doctor just took another sip of his lager.

“No,” he said, resolutely. “I’m not going back to London or the band.”

“You can’t just hide from reality!” she said, making an effort to keep her voice lowered so they wouldn’t draw too much attention, but her eyes betrayed her irritation. “The hiatus is seriously worrying your fanbase, they think it could be the end for Paradox.”

He closed his eyes briefly and exhaled a long breath through his nose, making his nostrils flare gently. “So tell the band I’m not coming back. Let them get another singer. Just because I’m not there, doesn’t mean they shouldn’t take on the world.”

“Doctor, they’re your mates as much as your band or your partners,” she said seriously. “And they all decided that there _is_ no Paradox without the Doctor.” She paused. “The Dome show is the last one in England until they finish the overseas tour. And they want you to be there. They believe in you, just like your fans believe in your band.” When the Doctor didn’t respond, she leaned closer to cautiously ask, “What does Rose think about all this? Do you think this will make things better? That this will help her?”

She startled as he pushed the stool back and stood up, leaning close to Kate to growl fiercely, “Look, Rose is my priority right now. I _will_ get her back on her feet. And I’m doing it _my_ way.” Turning, he headed for the door, pushing out hard enough to swing the portal back against the wall.

Kate huffed a deep sigh. “You stubborn idiot,” she mumbled. “Always trying to go it alone. Don’t you realize you’re not the only one who cares about her?”

\---

By the time Rose got back to the cottage, she’d read through the article twice. She threw the magazine on the sofa and headed for the bedroom. Flinging open the closet door, she dragged out her suitcase and opened it on the bed, beginning to throw articles of clothing into it.

She’d stopped the music. She’d been so caught up in forgetting what had happened to her, she hadn’t seen this coming. While she was trying to start over, she was destroying the Doctor’s life in the process. She was supposed to support him and his music, not get in the way. It seemed like that was all she was doing lately, being in the way. She knew he had this need to protect her, and as long as she was around, he’d stay away from doing the things he loved, all out of loyalty to her.

She had to go. She didn’t know where, she’d figure that part out later, but she had to, for his sake. He couldn’t possibly feel the same way about her again, not after what happened. What he felt for her now was sympathy, she was sure of it. For the Doctor and for Paradox, she had to give him up.

The front door opened and shut as she dropped a handful of underwear into the suitcase. She heard the Doctor call her name, making her heart pound. She had to be strong, make him see she was doing what was best for him. With the cottage being so small, he was at the door to the bedroom in a moment. He looked at the suitcase, then at her, his mouth falling open in a startled expression.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do what?”

“Doctor, I know.” She took a deep breath. “I know you quit Paradox to bring me here.”

His face went blank. “I see,” he said, his tone neutral. “Then, let me repeat my question. What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving.” She held up a hand when he moved forward, keeping him at arm’s length. “I have to. Don’t you see? I know that you’d do anything for me and it’s my turn now to do something for you. I have to go so you can get on with your life, your dreams!”

“Rose, are you blind?” he asked, coming forward and gripping her shoulders. “You’re not the only one wounded here.”

She blinked up at him. “What?”

“I didn’t just quit the band for you. I did it for me, too. I couldn’t keep performing, because you were hurting, so I was hurting as well.” He took her hand and placed it on his chest. The steady thump of his heart fluttered beneath her fingers. “Your pain is my pain. I brought us here so we could _both_ recover. I need you.”

“Oh, Doctor,” she moaned, her voice soft and watery. She fell forward into his arms, her fingers clenching into his shirt. “I need you, too. I don’t _want_ to leave you. But you also need Paradox. I’d never forgive myself if I robbed you of your music.”

He rubbed her back. “I don’t need the band. I’ll still sing and compose songs for you. As long as I have you, I’ll have all I need.”

She pulled back enough to look at his face. “Liar,” she said, her brows drawing together. “You’re lying to both of us, and you know it. Doctor, you haven’t even hummed one song since we’ve been here. It’s like you’re trying to force music out of your life. The band has always been just as important as I have. Are you afraid that you won’t be able to protect me if you go back? The Doctor I know isn’t afraid of anything.”

“I’m not that man anymore,” he said. “I… can’t keep the things I feel at bay anymore. I _do_ feel afraid. I have no choice.”

“Alright,” she conceded with a nod. “But I’m not the Rose you knew, either.” She laughed a little, shaking her head. “I think I get it now. All this time, I’ve been looking at the past and how it changed me for the worse. I should have been looking forward and seeing what I should do differently in the future. How I’ve changed, and will continue to change, for the better.”

She stood up a little straighter, rolling her shoulders back and lifting her chin, trying to muster up all of her courage, quelling the shaking part of her as much as she could. “Because of you, I’m stronger than ever before. Stronger than I ever thought I could be, even. And hopefully, strong enough that I can work through this, in due time.” She ducked her head slightly. “I’m not all the way there yet… but I want to move on, I need to. For both of us.” She smiled. “And I want to prove it to you. Follow your dreams. Go after what you want and I’ll keep up. I’ll be right there beside you. This isn’t about Paradox or me. You need to sing for yourself.” She tilted her head at him. “You know I’m right, don’t you?”

He gave her a soft smile, reaching out to cup her cheek. “There she is,” he murmured. “There’s my girl. My beautiful, stubborn, brave Rose. I’ve missed you.” His eyes crinkled at the corners and he pulled her back into his arms, laying his cheek against her hair. “Oh, God, how I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice breaking.

She held him tight. “Let’s go home,” she said against his collar. “Back where we belong. How about, instead of fighting to protect one another and doing what we think is best, we work together from now on?”

He nodded, catching strands of her hair in the shadow of his jaw. “Deal.”

\---

Davros grumbled as he stomped down the steps of the police station, Dale following after him. “You might have posted bail a bit sooner,” he groused. “The food in there…”

“It took longer than anticipated to gather the necessary funds,” the assistant explained. “With all the business accounts frozen by Revenue and Customs, I was forced to pull together resources from your various personal accounts, which required a power of attorney and--”

“No matter.” The disgraced mogul huffed, attempting to straighten his wrinkled suit jacket. He winced slightly and rubbed his arm where the bullet wound still pained him. “We have more important things to discuss. Harold Saxon. I can’t quite figure it out. Just what is his interest in this?” He stopped suddenly, seeing a lone figure standing on the pavement before him. “Oh, this should be good,” he said with a smirk. He crossed his arms, adopting a careless attitude. “Are you here to try and kill me, too? Or are you back for another taste?”

Rose just looked at him, refusing to be intimidated. “I will not let you get to me,” she said, clenching a fist at her side, the nails biting into her palm. “I just wanted to let you know that you may have bruised my body, but you couldn’t reach my heart. So, you lose.”

His forehead wrinkled. “What?”

“It might take a long time for the scars you gave me to fade,” she said. “I might never be able to forget what you did, they may never completely disappear. But what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. We overcome. Because we have something to live for.”

She took a step closer to him. “Don’t get in Paradox’s way again,” she said, fiercely. “I _will_ protect what’s mine. We crippled you this time. Next time, we won’t hold back.” Turning on her heel, she stalked away and didn’t look back.

Davros glared after her. “That little bitch,” he muttered.

“What will you do now?” asked Dale.

Lips tightening, he sighed. “Nothing,” said Davros. “With Saxon involved, our hands are tied.” Taking a deep breath, he glanced up and down the street. “Where is the car? You need to get me to the office.”

“Actually, sir,” said Dale. “The board had you deposed while you were in jail. With the tax fraud scandal, they decided you weren’t fit to be in charge of Skaro any longer.” He pulled a manila envelope out of his inner jacket pocket while Davros sputtered in indignation and handed it over. “This completes my final service for you, sir. Farewell.”

The assistant headed for the car park, leaving his former employer to find his own way home. He would find out later that the company had been bought out and dissolved, in the wake of all the bad press. Skaro would no longer exist, instead a company called Bad Wolf took the helm, ushering in a new regime in the UK music world.

\---

Rose let out a breath as she slid into the passenger seat of the Tardis where the Doctor had been waiting for her. He knew she’d needed to face Davros on her own, but he wouldn’t let her go alone. Leaning over, he kissed her.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said, smiling.

She grinned at him. “Thanks. I’m proud of me, too. But I’m more proud of _us.”_

“Did you go with ‘you have no power over me’?”

“No,” she said, pulling a face. “Thought I’d leave out quoting a Muppet film.”

“Oi,” he said, pointing at her. “I’ll have you know, there may be Muppets _in_ the film, but that was a David Bowie picture. And Bowie _always_ gets a pass.”

She snickered. “I suppose I’ll consider myself lucky that I’m the only one who knows what a big nerd you can be.” At his pouting expression, she reached over and patted his hand. “I did appreciate the suggestion, love.”

“I guess I should leave coming up with words to you,” he said, waggling his eyebrows as he started up the car. “Before we meet up with the band, there’s someplace I’d like to take you.”

“Our brand new flat?”

He checked his watch. “No, the movers shouldn’t be done until later. This is something else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had someone comment on Tumblr that they thought the Doctor was fairly nice, that he didn't castrate Davros or anything. I wanted to add here in the end notes, that this is ONLY because he got interrupted. In my head, if the Doctor hadn’t been interrupted, he would have shot Davros right in the crotch. The only reason he didn’t do that first, was because Davros was sitting behind a desk. Six bullets in a revolver, right? One in the bicep, one in the crotch, one in each kneecap, one right in the arsehole, so Davros would know what it felt like to be raped in the arse, and one in the fucker’s head right before he would have died from blood loss. THAT’S what would have happened. And the Doctor wouldn’t even fully realize what he’d done until the gun was fucking empty and the fucker was dead. All he cared about was unleashing as much pain as Rose had gone through, making him feel as much pain as the Doctor felt for her on her behalf. I don't know if he would have fully recovered from that, which is another reason I'm glad he was interrupted. Also, I really didn't want to write quite that much gun violence.


	35. Onward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor shares his innermost turmoil with Rose prior to rejoining the band for their last concert before they go overseas. Things take an unexpected turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW and includes a minor character death.

The Doctor coasted into a parking spot and killed the engine, but made no move to get out of the car. His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he stared out at the immense green field beyond the windshield, the gently waving grass interrupted at even intervals by marble slabs. He wasn’t aware that he was holding his breath until Rose laid a hand on one of his, and he inhaled sharply.

“When I was little,” he said, slowly, “I didn’t understand why my eyes were dark. I just remember my mother telling me not to look at her. She would drink and cling to this photo of her in a wedding dress, standing next to this man with blue eyes.” He took a breath. “She looked so happy in that photo. So one day, while I was at school, I tried to color my eyes with a blue marker.” He smiled a little at Rose’s aghast expression. “Don’t worry, I just colored on my eyelids. It was non-toxic and the teacher got it right off. I thought if I could make my eyes the right color, then I would be good and my mum would like me. I started crying when the teacher refused to color them in for me. I was a pretty weepy kid. I just wanted someone to care…”

“You wanted someone to love you,” said Rose, rubbing her thumb along his knuckles.

He nodded. “It wasn’t bad all the time. We had a stand-up piano at the flat and mum didn’t drink when she was teaching me how to play. As long as we sat together at the piano, she smiled. She was kind. When I learned how to play a scale correctly for the first time, she hugged me and told me I was a good boy.” He swallowed, pressing his lips together. “That was the first time I ever felt like I was really loved. I practiced every day. To earn her love. To be _worth_ something.”

“Oh, Doctor,” sighed Rose, her expression crumpling slightly in compassion, wishing she could somehow go back in time and hold the Doctor when he was little. “Didn’t she ever… come around?”

He took a deep breath and didn’t respond for a moment. “Not til the end. It was the booze that did it, she passed out and hit her head on the corner of the table. A neighbor drove us to the hospital, but they could only do so much. She grew weaker every day. She was struggling to breathe when she told me the truth about who my father was, that the man in the wedding photo wasn’t him. I still didn’t get it, I wanted to know why she’d had me, if she didn’t love my father. She just told me she was sorry, with tears in her eyes. And then she was gone.” He could still see her in his mind’s eye, her skin waxy, her eyes forever closed. He had to take another breath to steady himself before he went on, “I swore that day I’d never want anything again, even when I started living with Donna and Granddad. I wouldn’t seek out love or happiness. I never wanted to _need_ anyone again.”

His grip on the steering wheel loosened as he took another breath and slowly let it out. “It wasn’t until I started making music that I began to really feel alive. Music touched the deepest part of me. When we started Paradox, I felt like I could really dream again, but I still thought that love was for the weak. For romantics and masochists, certainly not for me.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “You really believed that?”

He nodded, then rotated his hand to hold hers, bringing it to his lips. “Until I met you.”

She smiled, but her eyes still held concern. “When was the last time you came here?” she asked, softly.

“Not since the funeral.”

She bit her lower lip. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.”

“Then… since we’re both being brave today, maybe there’s something else we can take care of.” Rose reached into her jacket pocket and withdrew the small black box. The Doctor’s breath caught in his throat. “I’m different now,” she reminded him. “I’m stronger. I think… I’m strong enough to wear this. If you still want me to.”

A smile quirking the corners of his mouth, he took the box from her and opened it, removing the ring he’d so carefully chosen. “There was never a doubt in my mind,” he said, slipping it on her finger. He stared down at their joined hands for a long moment before turning his head away and rubbing at his eyes. He sniffed, holding back the rest of the emotions that wanted to well up. “Blimey,” he said, his smile returning as he looked at her. “See what you do to me?”

She grinned. “This is what it means to feel. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it eventually.”

“You’ve ruined me, Rose Tyler. Absolutely ruined me.”

He pulled her a little closer and kissed away her giggles, threading his fingers through her hair while the thumb of his other hand stroked the engagement ring. Courage bolstered, his heart still pounding a little harder than usual, they exited the car. Hand in hand, he led her down a row of grave markers until they reached the one he sought.

It was a plain, unassuming headstone, with just the dates of birth and death and a name - Pia Noble. It occurred to Rose that she’d never seen a picture of the Doctor’s mother. He’d said she looked a lot like Donna, with blue eyes and ginger hair. It wasn’t much of a description, but Rose figured she must have been beautiful, if her children were anything to go by.

“Hello, mum,” the Doctor said, quietly, looking down at the headstone. “Sorry I haven’t come by more often. It wasn’t because I didn’t love you. It was because… I wanted to wait until I found someone else to love.” Tugging on her hand, he drew Rose in close and tucked her underneath his arm. “Mum, this is Rose Tyler. And I want to spend the rest of my life loving her.” He looked at her and his smile returned. “I promise you, the thing I want most in this world is to make sure you’re happy. Are you okay with that?”

Rose smiled, turning a bit to wrap her arms about his waist. _Mrs. Noble… Pia…_ she thought, hoping her prayer would somehow be heard. _Thank you. Thank you for your wonderful son. I want to make you a promise… We will be happy._

“Yes,” she answered him.

\---

The Dome show was gearing up to be one of the biggest events Paradox had ever done. The concert was hours away and already the crowd outside was huge. Some of the fans had been there overnight, queuing up in tents and fold-out chairs, and every so often, they’d start chanting the names of the band or singing along to Paradox songs with their mobile devices. Knowing that it was their last London show before they went overseas made ticket sales extremely hot. Scalpers were in rare form. The fans knew that Paradox would return, but everyone wanted to see them perform one last time before going to New York.

The atmosphere backstage was electric, everyone was in a state of constant tension and excitement as the crew prepared the amplifiers and microphones and tested the lighting. The band waited turns for their hair and makeup while Rory, Jack, and Mickey all changed the strings on their guitars and bass.

Rory strummed the strings to see what needed to be tuned and winced as his e-string broke with a twang. “That’s so weird,” he said. The others cringed. Breaking a fresh string was an omen of bad luck in the music world.

Everyone looked up as the door burst open to admit the stage manager in a panic, his face white as a sheet. “Your studio just called,” he said. “It’s your producer… There’s been an accident.” The band collectively got to their feet, the world grinding to a halt as he went on. “She was speeding to get here…” The man swallowed hard, evidently trying to get his thoughts together to deliver the pertinent information. “She’s at the hospital. They said she’s critical--”

The Doctor seemed to recover his mobility by then and grabbed Rose’s hand, pulling her with him out of the dressing room. Seeing him in action spurred the rest of them and they all ran out of the backstage area, piling into two separate cars to rush to the hospital.

Rose called Masterworks on the way to get more details, as the company had been the ones notified of Kate’s accident by the emergency response team. “They’re saying that she swerved to avoid missing a kid who’d run into the street and ran her car into a telephone pole,” she said, clutching her mobile tightly. “The hospital told them her condition is uncertain.”

“Damn it, what does that even mean?” growled the Doctor, fighting the urge to exceed the speed limit. It would only take longer to get there if he got pulled over for speeding.

After getting to the hospital, they were shown to the surgery waiting room. All thoughts about their impending show had been forgotten as they waited to hear about Kate. Finally, a surgeon emerged to talk to them and they all crowded together, seeking reassurance in their proximity.

“We’ve done everything we can,” the surgeon said, his voice grave. “It’ll be up to her whether she makes it through the night.” He paused. “If there’s anything you need to say to her, you may want to do that now.”

“This is bollocks!” cried Donna. “Kate can’t die! She’s going to New York with us! There’s got to be something you can do!”

“Donna,” said the Doctor, placing a hand on her shoulder before she riled herself up further. “Come on.”

Kate’s room was crowded with monitoring equipment, beeping and pulsing with every breath of air the tube pumped through the mask strapped to her face. She lay pale and still in the bed, the top of her head covered with gauze and medical tape. Rose covered her mouth, trying to keep from sobbing aloud.

Amy turned to Rory, clinging to him tightly. The guitarist was silent, his mouth set in a grim line, his blue eyes staring at the figure on the bed as if he could see the spectre of death suspended above her.

Jack took one of Kate’s hands in both of his, leaning close to her. “Kate?” he ventured, not knowing if she could even hear him. “You gotta wake up, sweetheart. The show’s about to start and you can’t miss it.”

Mickey wiped his nose on his sleeve and tried not to sound like his throat was rapidly closing, “Yeah, you been with us this far. You can’t turn back now.”

Kate’s eyes twitched, but stayed closed. “Doc… tor…”

The Doctor moved to the side of the bed opposite Jack and took her free hand. “I’m here, Kate,” he said. “I came back to the band. Now you have to come back, too, okay? Don’t you dare give up.”

Her eyelashes fluttered, then opened. The nurse checked Kate’s pressure while the producer attempted to smile at her band. “Shouldn’t you… be on stage?” she asked. “The show…”

“We’re gonna play that show with you in the front row,” said Donna, fiercely, not even realizing there were tears falling down her cheeks. “Come on, now, you’re one tough bird. You’re not gonna leave us like this, are you? You don’t want us to play the show without you!”

But Kate’s eyes were closing again, her mind drifting from the hospital room full of the people she cared about.

Rose pressed in close to the Doctor. “Kate, you’re gonna get through this, you hear me? You’re coming with us to New York, just like you planned. Kate? Kate!”

She opened her eyes and looked at Rose, smiling tiredly. “There she is,” Kate murmured. “Our special girl. I p-pushed you so hard… and you always came back.” With all the effort she could muster, she pulled her hand from the Doctor’s grasp and reached for Rose, who took it at once. “That’s your greatest strength,” Kate whispered. “Your heart. Rose, your heart is so beautiful. Your devotion to the Doctor… you taught me…” Her face crumpled slightly. “I’m-- I’m so sorry… for what happened to you…” She closed her eyes again with a sigh. “Remember… always remember that there are people who care about you. Who… need you.”

Rose squeezed Kate’s hand as tightly as she dared. “You have to stop talking like that. We need _you,_ too! You can’t go now, not like this…”

“Come on, Kate,” the Doctor pleaded. “You promised us we’d be the biggest band in the world. Who’s gonna see that through if you go?” It was all bluster. In that moment, none of them cared about becoming international stars, but they all knew it was Kate’s dream. They needed her to fight for it, to stay with them.

“The show…” she murmured, her eyes still closed. “Yes… I can hear them. Shouting… for you. I can… see them crying. They’re… so far away.” She tried to squeeze the hands holding hers, but she couldn’t find the will to do so. “You have to… reach for it. Do it… for me. Reach for the dream. I’ll be there… I’ll always… be with… you…”

Kate arms fell limp moments before the heart monitor blared its warning. The nurse called out an emergency code and more nurses plus a doctor ran into the room. Someone barked that the band should leave, but the group refused to do more than back away to the edges of the room while the nurses crowded in around the bed, trying to jumpstart the producer’s heart, to get her lungs to fill with breath again. It was forever and yet only a few moments before the flurry of activity stopped and the time of death called.

Rose sank to the floor, crying. It couldn’t end like this, it just couldn’t. She’d never had a chance to really thank Kate for helping her, or to apologize for all the trouble she’d caused the band. She’d never told Kate how much she’d helped her. She’d wanted to pay the producer back, to somehow make her proud. Kate couldn’t die when there was so much left to say and do.

Apparently, the universe wasn’t that kind.

The Doctor moved toward the door and everyone looked at him in a sort of grief-stricken stupor. “Doctor?” asked Jack. “Where are you going?”

He looked over his shoulder at the rest of them. “We’ve got a show to do.”

He was right. Despite their sorrow, everyone followed him out of the hospital to head back to the Dome. It was what Kate would have wanted. This was it, the beginning of their global fame - Kate’s promise fulfilled. Only now, the Doctor would sing for himself. He would do it surrounded by those he loved.

They would live the dream.

When the Doctor strode out onto the stage, he waited for the screaming crowd to hush before taking the microphone. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, solemnly. “About Paradox, about music. About my life. I’m sorry I almost let all of you down. This show is dedicated to you, our loyal fans…” He paused, closing his eyes briefly. “And to our beloved producer, Kate Stewart.”

The crowd cheered, even though they wouldn’t understand the full meaning of his statement until later, when the news of Kate’s death would be released to the press.

Donna hit the rhythm with her sticks and the band plunged into their first song, giving everything they could to the performance. Their minds were full of memories of Kate and how much she had believed in them. She had known they could take on the world. They would do everything in their power to prove her right.

Rose sat backstage, watching the show on a monitor and just letting her tears fall, thinking about all that Kate had done for them while the band had been under her guidance. Sometimes gentle, sometimes stern, Kate had been an indomitable force. She had been right there when Rose had hurt the most, providing support, giving her courage.

She’d thought about staying behind at the hospital when the others were headed for the Dome, but deep down she’d known that Kate would want her to go. If Kate couldn’t be there, then Rose would go in her place, to see it for her, in a way. At the moment, it was the only thing Rose felt she could do to honor Kate’s memory.

When the concert finished and the band came offstage to thunderous applause and chants for an encore, they all looked around, half-expecting to see their producer still standing there.

Jack shook his head. “I can’t believe it’s really not a dream,” he said.

Donna nodded, sadly. “She was always the first person we saw when we came offstage, giving us direction for the encore…”

“Kate always had something to say,” said Mickey.

“But she’s not here,” said Rory, looking at the ground.

“Come on, you lot, we can’t fall apart now,” said the Doctor, firmly. “Kate taught us well. We can do this.” He grabbed a towel from a stack waiting nearby. “Dry off, get back out there, and _smile.”_

Rallying quickly, they followed his example, grabbing hand towels and patting their faces to get rid of the sweat without ruining their makeup. Donna flicked her towel at the Doctor’s bum before tossing it in the pile for laundry. He frowned at her.

“What was that for?”

“Just now,” she said with a smile that was half-proud, half-sad, “that’s exactly what Kate would have said.”

Rose smiled through her tears as Paradox ran back onstage for a final song. She wondered if Kate could see them, from wherever she was, if she could hear the music. Paradox’s requiem.

She sniffled and rubbed at her nose, taking deep breaths to calm herself. The band would grieve, but the time for tears was over. She knew that one day they would look back and remember their producer without the ache in their hearts. One day, they would be able to speak of her with sweet nostalgia.

Kate’s dream was just beginning, and Rose wanted to be the one to see it through to completion. She would look to Kate’s example, to help and support people, to be strong and kind. A leader.

\---

The next day, the Doctor had a private meeting with Harold Saxon, to sign the paperwork stating that he was officially a part of Paradox again, completing the band’s move to Saxon Sound, the music subsidiary of Masterworks Productions.

Harry smirked as his brother slid the contract across the desk. “You’re working for me now,” he said, unnecessarily. “Are you alright with that?”

“Yeah,” said the Doctor, but followed his statement with, “if you try anything, I’ll walk.”

Harry chuckled. “Same old story. Hold on,” he said when the Doctor moved to get up from his chair. “Eventually, I’ll be expected to take over Gallifrey Inc. If the old man can ever be convinced to retire. If and when that happens, I’ll have to merge most of Masterworks so I don’t spread myself too thin.” He tapped his fingers on his desk. “At that point, I’d like you to step in and run Saxon Sound.” He paused, waiting for some kind of reaction. He received a single eyebrow lift. “I know Rassilon’s always wanted you to be a part of the business. But I’m not asking for our father. I’m asking for myself.”

The Doctor pressed his lips together, then stood. “Sorry, but no,” he said. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not interested in controlling music, Harry. I just want to make it.”

Harry shook his head at his brother’s back as the Doctor headed out the office door. John was as stubborn as ever. He had no desire to be in business, masterminding other people’s futures. The Doctor only wanted to be in charge of his own. Harry figured, as long as it didn’t interfere with his bottom line, he had no problem with that.

A small crowd of reporters swarmed the Doctor as he left the Masterworks building. They wanted to know how he was holding up in the wake of his producer’s passing, and if the band still planned on going international.

“In honor of Kate Stewart, we’ll be following the plan she worked so hard to put together,” he said. “Paradox is going global. We have Saxon Sound’s full support and we leave for New York in one week. We just wish Kate could be going with us.”

\---

Later that night, Rose and the Doctor had dinner with Jackie, as a final farewell until they returned to England. There were tears, of course, happy ones as Jackie gushed over Rose’s beautiful engagement ring and some sad ones as she mourned the fact that her little girl was all grown up and leaving her, but it was obvious she was incredibly proud of Rose.

“What do you think you’ll do in New York?” asked Jackie. “Besides write for your band, of course.”

Rose bit her lip around a smile, she hadn’t even told the Doctor her idea yet. “Actually, I thought I’d try going to uni,” she said, her heart thudding a little faster in excitement. “I want to study music, so I can become a producer. I know it’s tough, but… I want to give it a shot.”

The Doctor smiled at her, amazed once again at her brilliance, but Jackie’s brow furrowed slightly in worry.

“Are you sure, Rose?” she asked. “You never even tried for A-levels…”

“I know, mum, but I never had anything I really wanted to _try_ for,” Rose said. “I thought my life was going to be so ordinary - work in a shop, hang with friends, eat chips, and not much else. What good would A-levels do me in a life like that?” She looked at the man sitting beside her and reached for his hand, feeling love radiating from her heart as he twined their fingers. “Then I met the Doctor. And he’s shown me that I can do anything.”

Jackie looked at the Doctor. “What do you think about this, then?”

“If I believe in anything, Jackie Tyler,” he said, turning to look at her with serious eyes, “I believe in her. Rose is brilliant. For her, nothing is impossible. If she wants to go to uni, then I want to help make that happen. I will do anything to make her happy.”

Jackie blew out a breath and smiled. “That’s just what I wanted to hear. My Rose is a handful, but she is my daughter. I just wanted to know that someone would be looking out for her since I won’t be able to, all the way over here.” She looked at the Doctor for a moment, then nodded as if coming to a decision. “I suppose you’ll do.”

Rose giggled. “I think that’s about as close as you’ll get to approval from my mum,” she said to the Doctor, her golden eyes twinkling with mirth.

“I’ll take it,” he said, kissing her hand.

\---

They left Jackie’s when the Doctor received a text from the movers, stating that everything had been installed and they were leaving the premises. When they stepped over the threshold of their new flat that evening, the Doctor headed for the ensuite off the bedroom to take a shower while Rose paused in the living room and took a deep breath. Everything was brand new. The flat had none of the familiar smells she’d come to associate with the old places. That was okay with her. It felt like a new start. A lot had happened to them, both good times and bad. So many memories. The new place and new furniture were another way to help her move on from the past. Rose _wanted_ to move forward. Tonight, she intended to take another step.

She went to the bedroom and undressed, listening to the water run in the room nextdoor. She slipped into her robe and brushed her hair until it shone like strands of gold in the light. When the Doctor emerged from the ensuite with a towel slung low on his hips, she turned to look at him and bit her lower lip. His skin was rosy and a bit damp, his hair spiky and tousled. He was gorgeous. And then he smiled, catching her looking at him, and her heart beat a little faster.

Coming over to him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest, nuzzling her cheek in the scant amount of hair he had there. “Will you take me to bed tonight?” she asked, attempting to infuse a note of seduction in her tone so he wouldn’t misunderstand her meaning.

“Rose,” he said, surprise in his voice. “We don’t--”

“Please?” she asked, lifting her head to look at him. She wanted him to see that she wasn’t afraid, that she wanted this. “I’m-- I’m better now.”

He looked skeptical, but leaned down to kiss her, brushing her hair back from her face with his hands. She closed her eyes, letting him stoke the fire slowly, moaning when he pulled her lip between his and gently sucked.

When he tossed his towel aside and maneuvered her backward to lie on the bed, however, her body began to tremble. It frustrated her, because she _knew_ it was the Doctor, she _knew_ he’d never hurt her, and yet… Kissing was good, she knew the Doctor’s kiss, she could handle the kissing. But lying on the bed, knowing what was about to happen… Her stomach swooped with adrenaline.

“Rose.”

She opened her eyes, not realizing she had kept them closed. He touched her cheek, caressing the curve of it with his thumb.

“We don’t have to do this,” he said. She knew he meant it. No matter what he wanted, if she said no, he would stop, no questions asked. She loved him all the more for it.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I _do,”_ she said. Reflexively, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I know I’m afraid, but… I’m more afraid that if I don’t _try,_ I’ll never be able to feel you pressed against me again. I’m afraid that--”

He bent down and kissed her, then leaned his forehead against hers. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he said. “What you’re feeling is real. And it’s okay to still be scared. And I love you for wanting to try.” He paused. “We’ll go slow, okay? And you’ll tell me…?”

He trailed off, but she nodded, understanding that he wanted her to stop him if it was too much or too fast. He reached for the tie of her robe and unfastened the knot, then eased the garment open. Rose hesitantly tried to lower her arms, but a moment later, she was crossing them again.

“Don’t look,” she whispered, turning her red face to the side. Somehow, being naked in front of him was worse than the prospect of having sex with him. It was like all her scars were laid bare, like he could see every place that had been violated.

“I have to look,” he said, placing kisses from her elbow to her fingertips. “A person can’t look away from the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen.”

The fear lingering in her gut suddenly winged away, leaving the flutters of anticipation in its wake, because no matter what she thought about herself, she knew he believed what he said. And if he thought she was beautiful, then maybe she was. Maybe she could learn to feel beautiful again as he molded her anew with his hands, lips, with every part of himself.

When he leaned up and kissed her neck, her arms relaxed and came around his back to hold him closer, pressing his warm body against hers. _Yes._ This was right. This man… This was _her_ John. She filled her lungs with his scent, wishing the essence of him could sink into her skin like a drug. He slowly bore down on her, letting her take more of his weight gradually, until his growing cock was gently nudging her curls. But instead of entering her, he shifted to the side, tangling their legs, and kissed her while his free hand drifted down her body, ghosting his fingertips across her sensitive skin, getting her used to his touch all over again.

By the time he finally dipped his fingers down to her apex, she was moving restlessly against him, growing eager for release. She keened as he sank a single digit inside, and he groaned along with her.

“Rose, you’re so tight, so perfect,” he said, looking at her with eyes impossibly dark with want, his pouty pink lips slightly parted as his breath came faster.

She loved those lips, the way they carved her name onto his breath. And those dark chocolate eyes, reflecting her curves back to her. He saw every part of her and in those eyes, there was nothing ‘wrong’ or ‘dirty’ about her. To him, she was perfect. Her toes curled as he curved his finger, lightly massaging the little spot inside her that made the sensations feel so intense.

He smiled as he eased another finger inside of her. “It’s like… I’m holding you for the first time again.”

“H-how?”

“You’re nervous. You’re all tense, your muscles are locked up.” He laid a chain of moist kisses along her collarbone, his lips against her skin as he spoke, “You need to be caressed, coaxed into opening up for me.” He undulated his hips slightly, rubbing his cock against her thigh, letting her feel how hard he’d become. “You’re driving me crazy. I want you so much. I love it.”

His admission, combined with the velvety feel of his hardness against her and the agile work of his fingers, spurred her over into a brief, but heady climax. The resulting surge of feel-good chemicals fuzzed her brain, helping her to relax further. When the Doctor settled on top of her, her arms and legs came around him at once.

He found her opening with his length, gliding along her wet outer lips. “Who am I?” he asked her.

She blinked up at him. “John.”

He smiled. “Right the first time.” When he slowly entered her, she wasn’t afraid at all.

He held her close as he built their rhythm, their bodies quickly becoming slick with sweat as the friction rose. She cherished each pant of hot breath on her skin, melting her scars, melting away the memories. Little by little, the heat from his body melted it all away, leaving only him and her, just as it should be.

“More,” she moaned, crying out in ecstasy as he obliged, moving faster, thrusting deep inside her.

His hands traveled along her arms to reach her hands, twining them together, locking them in that moment. “I love you,” he gasped. He’d said it to her many times, but it brought new tears to her eyes, because this time it sounded like a promise. His promise that he would _always_ love her, no matter what.

The pressure built and she arched her back, her muscles going rigid as he pulled another longer orgasm from her, her channel spasming tightly and tipping him over the edge a moment later, chasing the stars bursting behind their eyelids as sensation spread to the very tips of her toes.

She kept her legs locked around his waist as he melted down on top of her, sleepily kissing whatever expanse of skin he could reach. She didn’t want him to withdraw quite yet, she wanted to keep him as close as she could, slowly softening inside her.

Rose knew, without a doubt, that as long as she was with John, she’d never be afraid again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One reader remarked to me, after the Davros incident, that they didn't think they'd be able to forgive Kate for her part in it. And I responded that I couldn't say much without giving away the plot, but that all parties would pay for their involvement. This chapter is the culmination of that. Did I make you sad? I hope I did, because Kate is such a conflicting character. You want to not like her, because not all of her methods are pure, but she truly believes she's doing what is best and she really does CARE about her band. If I could make you sad over her death, then I believe I succeeded in writing a complex person with both good and bad traits.
> 
> The Doctor's mother is named after my beta. She has been so wonderful, putting in over a year of work on this story, and her input is always thoughtful and greatly appreciated. Thank you, sweetie!
> 
> Also, I hope the reason why the Doctor shared everything about his past with Rose was obvious. He opened up to her because he wanted to show his scars to her, the innermost part of his heart that he keeps hidden. She had been through so much and was still in the process of healing, this was his way of saying "Okay, I can see your scars, here are mine, we're the same, there's nothing wrong with you if there's nothing wrong with me, we'll get through this and everything else in life together."


	36. Married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All songs must come to an end, but this is just the start of a new composition in Rose and the Doctor's life together. Come what may, they'll face each new adventure hand-in-hand, and love each other more with every passing day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, you guys! The final chapter! I can't believe this took me over a year to complete, wow. Not gonna lie, I teared up a bit as I was finalizing the editing. Thank you all for your sweet comments and encouragements, they have meant the world to me. I hope you've enjoyed this ride, I know I have.
> 
> I've also been advised by my beta to have a tissue warning on this chapter, for happy tears. ^_^

 

The morning of the day they were to fly to New York dawned bright and crisp, the sky clear and cold, the color of a robin’s egg. The whole band, plus Rose, Ianto, and Amy with Melody, all gathered around the flat marble headstone that read _Katherine Stewart_ in block script. They all wanted to say goodbye. Rose set a bouquet of lilies into the cemetery vase beside it, then snuggled up to the Doctor, wrapping her arms around one of his.

“We’re heading to New York today,” said the Doctor, looking down at the headstone. “We’ll miss you, Kate.”

“Bet she’s worried we’ll miss our flight,” said Jack, smiling.

Donna chuckled. “She’d scream at us for ‘wasting time’ like this.”

“While compulsively checking to make sure we all had our passports,” said Rory, elbowing Mickey in the ribs, who snorted.

“I’m sure she’s watching us from heaven,” said Rose. “She loved Paradox as much as we do.”

The Doctor nodded. “We’re gonna make this happen for her.”

They couldn’t stay long, as they had an international flight to catch. As the group headed off, all reminiscing about their late producer, the Doctor lingered near the grave, kneeling down in the grass to lay one hand on the cold marble.

“I’m making you a promise,” he said, quietly. “Because, knowing you, you’ll find a way to make me keep it, even from where you are.” He took a deep breath. “You know that smile Rose has? The one that makes you feel like the ground has been pulled out from underneath you? Well, at least it feels that way for me… I’ll never let that smile cloud. I’ll protect her and love her, the way she deserves. And once I’ve become a man who is worthy of her, then we’ll finally get m--”

“Doctor!”

He looked over his shoulder to see Rose jogging back to him.

“What are you doing?” she asked as she came to a stop. “We’re all waiting for you so we can caravan over to the airport.”

He smiled and got to his feet, holding out a hand for her to take. Fingers entwined, they headed for the parking lot together. “I just had a couple more things to say to Kate, that’s all. Didn’t mean to hold up the party.”

“Oh?” she said, tucking her tongue into the corner of her smile. “And what did you need to say that you couldn’t around the rest of us?”

“Guy stuff.”

She lifted a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Guy stuff?”

“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p.’

“You do realize that Kate is not a guy.”

He scrunched up his nose. “Do we both have to be guys for that saying to work?”

“Generally.”

“Oh.” He scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. “It was just something I need to do and I know she’ll find a way of holding me to it, that’s all.” He tugged her to a stop at the edge of the grass. “Rose, we’ve been through a lot since we met. Are you still with me for the long haul?”

She grinned. “Always. To New York and beyond. Wherever our dreams take us.”

He smiled back. “Brilliant.”

 

\--- _Two Years Later_ \---

It was drizzling when the Doctor stepped out of baggage claim at Heathrow and he took a deep breath. New York had been rainy sometimes, but it wasn’t like London rain. The familiar damp smell made him smile. He’d had to fly back a day later than everyone else due to a scheduling mixup with one final interview, but now the long road to international stardom had wound its way back to the UK. He was home.

Not even the rain could deter the hoard of press waiting for him. They shoved microphones, tape recorders, and mobile phones in his face, all begging for a comment. “Doctor, congratulations on your number one hit in America!” one reporter said. “It took you two years to do it, how does it feel?”

“Please give us a comment?” another asked. “How will you celebrate?”

A cab stopped at the curb for him, but he paused before climbing inside. “To celebrate, I plan on marrying my fiancée,” he said with a cheeky grin, then ducked inside the car and shut the door, leaving the shouting press behind, all frantic to hear more. It tickled him to give them such a tantalizing nugget of information and nothing else. He still hadn’t lost his touch.

Rose was in the living room of their flat, looking at her mobile and giggling when he arrived. “Your feed is blowing up,” she said, setting the phone aside and coming over to wrap her arms around his neck. “You just can’t resist shocking them, can you?”

Leaning down, he gave her a lingering kiss. He had only been delayed for a day, but he hated being parted from her for any length of time. “It wasn’t just for shock value,” he said, making her lift her eyebrows. He smiled, trailing his hands along her arms. “Paradox is number one, both here and in the US. I’ve finally become the man you deserve.” He took her hands in his and brought them to his lips. “Rose Tyler… I love you. Let’s get married.”

Her expression of confusion melted as her cheeks flushed bright pink and she smiled with tears welling in her eyes. “Well… Finally!” she exclaimed, making him laugh, right before he wrapped her up in his arms and twirled them both around in a circle.

He couldn’t agree more. It felt like ages ago when he proposed to her, and yet, like it was just yesterday. Either way, it was about bloody time.

\---

Donna tapped her foot on the concrete steps of the church. She looked wonderful in her fitted lace-overlay bridesmaid dress of royal blue, but her face was stormy. Huffing an irritated sigh, she checked her watch for the thousandth time. “He’s late,” she grumbled. “Late to his own wedding. I should have known. I should have taken bets!”

“Cut him a little slack,” said Jack. “Maybe he ran into some paparazzi.” They had all known that today would be a field day for the press, as it was, the police were having a difficult time keeping both the reporters and well-wishing fans at bay behind barricades a safe distance away from the church.

A limousine pulled up, but instead of the Doctor, the four members of Midnight all piled out, dressed to the nines in formal attire. “Talk about short notice!” complained Jethro, tugging at his tie. “Did he even bother to think what this would do to _our_ tour schedule?”

Jack came forward to greet them and clapped the young man on the back. “Spoken like a true rock star,” he said, grinning. “We’re glad you could make it.” He rejoined Donna as the band made their way inside the church. Meanwhile, the redhead had begun pacing.

“Where the _hell_ is he?” said Donna, checking her mobile for any helpful texts. “Rose waited two years in New York, she shouldn’t have to wait any longer!”

“Hey, she put those two years to good use,” Jack reminded her. “She was a star at uni. Harry’s about to sign her as our new producer.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, and it’s brilliant and everything, but if I was her, I wouldn’t have let _himself_ decide when to walk down the aisle. I would have nipped that in the bud in the first year! It’s not like we didn’t all _know_ that they belonged together.”

“Oh, really?” said Jack, leaning against the doorframe and lifting an eyebrow. “So, you’ll be demanding a rock on your finger any day now?” He nodded in the direction of the white tent that had been set up on the church lawn, where the reception was to take place later.

Donna blushed and avoided looking at Jack. “Never you mind.” The band had made a huge deal out of her developing relationship with their craft services manager, Lee McAvoy, who was also doing the wedding catering. Despite all her bluster, she really was nervous that she would eventually bollocks things up with the shy chef, but he seemed to adore her outspoken ways.

“I totally ship the two of you,” said Jack in a conspiratorial whisper. “Now go find him and kiss so I can take a picture of it.”

She smacked his arm. “Shut it, or the next one is aimed at your face.”

Jack placed a hand to his chest and gaped at her in mock upset, but wisely ‘shut it’ as she advised.

The roar of a familiar sports car engine drew their attention to the car park and they turned in time to see the Doctor zoom in, steer the Tardis into a space, and jam on the brakes. It mollified Donna somewhat that at least her brother appeared to _know_ that he was late. Jack ducked into the church immediately to find Mickey and Rory so that the three of them could get to work on the car, turning it into a fluffy ‘Just Married’ confection for the newlyweds to drive off into the sunset in.

“Sorry,” said the Doctor, running a hand over his hair as he approached the church. “I had a hard time losing the paps. How’s Rose?”

“Fine, as far as I know,” said Donna, “I’ve been out here waiting for you. But Amy’s been helping her get ready, so she should be fine, and no, you can’t see her, it’s bad luck!” She grabbed him by the wrist and tugged him inside before he could start arguing with her. “Come on, spaceman, let’s fix your hair.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, but it won’t stay like that for long if you keep tugging at it!”

\---

Amy took a step back and nodded, a pride-filled smile on her face. “All done. You look breathtaking.”

“Well, you’re not Paradox’s image and style consultant for nothing,” said Rose, smiling back. Amy’s promotion from makeup and wardrobe to a title more befitting her expertise was a long time in coming. Now she oversaw everything that had to do with Paradox’s image, including a say on what official photographs were published.

Amy nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. “True, but I feel like I’ve outdone myself this time. The Doctor’s gonna fall in love with you all over again.”

Rose giggled. “You think so?”

“Definitely,” said Martha from her place on a nearby sofa where she was playing with Melody and generally just helping the toddler stay clean in her white flower girl’s dress, tied with blue ribbons. An understated diamond ring on Martha’s left hand winked in the light as she played Pat-a-Cake.

“You should hire her for your own wedding,” said Rose. “If you and Micks ever nail down a date.”

Martha laughed. “I’m starting to think he’s going to follow through on his threat to bring a priest down to the hospital!”

Amy sighed. “I’m so glad Rory and I eloped. All this nonsense is enough to drive a woman mad!”

“That’s the Scottish talking,” Rose deadpanned. “We English _thrive_ on this nonsense.”

All three women laughed, reluctantly reining it in when a knock sounded at the door. Jackie popped her head in, her nose already pink from holding back tears. “It’s time, love,” she said, then gasped as she caught a real look at Rose. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said, her voice going high and soft. “You look _so_ gorgeous!”

Rose stood and smoothed her hands down the front of her white gown. She and the other ladies had agonized over the choice of her dress, but Rose had known this was the one the moment she slipped it on. The bodice was done in white-on-white lace in an off the shoulder style and spotless white satin made up the the ballroom-type skirt which boasted a short chapel-length train. She wore her hair up in a simple but elegant chignon and a single rhinestone clip secured her elbow-length lace-trimmed veil. Amy had finished the look with dramatic eyeliner and lashes, but had picked a nude-toned shadow to go with it, a rosy blush for her cheeks, and a glossy lipstick that heightened Rose’s natural pink lips.

Jackie pressed her hands to her mouth, desperately trying to hold the tears in. She wanted to attempt to keep her makeup intact for at least half the service. “You’re the most beautiful bride in the whole world!”

“Mum, _every_ bride is always the most beautiful,” said Rose, rolling her eyes slightly.

“Hush, now, for _my_ daughter it actually happens to be true.” She fanned her face and blinked her eyes rapidly until she felt she had a handle on herself, then took a deep breath. Taking Rose’s hand in both of hers, she asked, “You ready to do this?”

Rose smiled. “More than.”

There was a moment at the top of the aisle, holding onto her mother’s arm, where Rose forgot to breathe. The sound of the music faded in her ears and everyone looking at her blurred into the background. Somehow she managed to keep moving forward, but everything was eclipsed by the Doctor’s blinding smile. He stood at the altar, dressed in an impeccable black tuxedo with a blue waistcoat, fingers twitching at his sides as if he couldn’t wait to take her hand.

Jackie presented her daughter and took her seat, gratefully accepting a handful of tissues from Martha, who was sitting next to her. The Doctor joined hands with Rose, his eyes shining with emotion.

“Hello,” he said, softly.

“Hello,” she replied, breathlessly. Somehow, it was everything they needed to hear in that moment. He didn’t have to say anything else, she could see it all written large across his face and knew her own had to be similar. So much love in one word.

As they listened to the priest and exchanged their vows, Rose found herself thinking back on all they’d done in the last two years. When they’d arrived in New York, everything seemed so rushed and complicated. She’d been so busy with uni, it had been difficult to find time to work on her lyrics, and she’d often come to the Doctor, wanting to cry or scream or do both. It was so frustrating at times, feeling like she’d never be able to pull it off. He had always encouraged her, helped with her assignments when he could, and gave amazing backrubs to calm her down. He never stopped believing in her.

Then Paradox hit number one and they’d finally set a date to marry. They bought their matching wedding bands on Bond Street, the day after he’d arrived from New York. Sliding the platinum band onto the Doctor’s finger, Rose felt like her smile would break her face, she was so happy.

Their life together hadn’t always been perfect, but they’d worked through all of it and come out stronger, ready to tackle whatever came next. As long as it was Rose and the Doctor, they could do anything. When the Doctor lifted her veil and held her close in a passionate kiss, she could see the rest of their life spreading out before them. Now and forever, a never ending song, just waiting to be given breath.

 

\--- _Another Year Later_ \---

The next year when Paradox arrived back in London, it wasn’t just the press that was waiting for them, but a mass of fans as well. The police had to cordon off the area, just to keep the crowd back and not cause too much of a crush for people arriving and departing from the airport.

The five members of the band smiled and waved for the photographers and dropped little sound bites for the reporters who were all shouting over one another, trying to get an exclusive.

“Your latest album enjoyed five straight weeks at the top of the American charts,” called one reporter. “You’ve sold over ten million copies worldwide - how does that feel?”

“Oh, _God!”_ gushed a fan to her friend. “The Doctor is SO hot! If only I could get him in bed, just once!”

“Keep dreaming,” her friend said. “He’s famously devoted to his wife.”

“Doctor!” cried another reporter. “How’s married life treating you? Any comment?”

The Doctor paused and smiled at that particular reporter. “Yeah,” he said, removing his sunglasses. He looked out to the fans, beaming his serene expression over them like a sprinkler full of sunlight, before answering, “I’m happy.”

The crowd behind the press squealed as the band moved out to the van waiting for them at the curb. Jack placated the fans by blowing kisses and informed the reporters that they would be notified when Paradox was ready to hold a press conference.

They settled down in their seats and fastened the safety belts as the van carefully navigated out of the airport parking. Mickey sighed deeply, looking back at the big crowd. “It’s kinda nice, feeling the love of the English fans again,” he said, to the agreement of the others, but mostly they were looking forward to experiencing the love of a few _specific_ people. The significant others of Paradox had all gone back to the UK a day early so they wouldn’t have to deal with the media circus.

The Doctor jounced his leg as he stared out the window, silently willing the van to go faster. It was their first trip home since his and Rose’s wedding and there was someone very special that they were both eager to introduce to London.

\---

_“And now for a special feature, to coincide with their long-overdue return to London, Paradox’s first greatest hits collection, entitled_ The Best, _hits the stores in the UK today!”_

Rose gasped and turned toward the television, hefting her two month old son in her arms. “Look, Jack! Daddy’s on telly!” They had named him after Rose’s mother, a fact that Jack Harkness often chose to ignore whenever it suited him.

The pink-cheeked baby blinked his deep amber eyes sleepily, but gurgled happily and waved his chubby arms when he saw the Doctor singing in a video on the screen. He hadn’t quite learned how to clap yet, but he was getting there. Rose grinned and placed a kiss to his wild brown hair, almost a replica of his father’s, while she gently bounced him in time with the music. Even after all this time, seeing the Doctor perform still made her heart skip a beat. It was like every time she saw him on stage, he was more powerful than before. And that man was _her_ husband. She felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

“You’re a strange person, Rose.”

She spun around to see the Doctor standing in the doorway, a wry grin on his face. He closed the door and came towards them, wrapping them both in a big hug. “You have the real me, but you still get excited when you see me on telly.”

“I get excited so Jack knows it’s you,” she said, blushing slightly. It wasn’t exactly a lie, Rose always made a big deal out of seeing the Doctor on telly or hearing him on the radio. Their lives were busy and she wanted their son to know his father in spite of that fact. She didn’t mention that she’d _never_ stopped being excited at seeing him perform, it would only swell his head.

He nuzzled her blonde crown with his nose. “Mm-hmm,” he said, not sounding convinced. “Only you could make me jealous of myself.”

She giggled. “Want to hold him?”

“You really need to ask?” He looked down at their little one and smiled broadly, lifting his eyebrows high, making a big excited face. “Hey, there! Come see daddy!” He lifted Jack into his arms. “Ooh, you’re getting big!”

Rose felt her face warm as she watched the two loves of her life interact. It was like seeing her dreams played out before her eyes. She thought if she were any happier, her heart might explode.

Later, she watched the Doctor sing Jack to sleep and lay him down in his little cot. Once they’d both managed to sneak out and close the door without waking him, she pulled the Doctor close, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“You’re such an amazing father.”

He chuckled. “You’re the one who’s amazing. I thought for sure you’d be more flustered, being a new mum. I didn’t expect you to be so on top of things.”

“Well, I learned a lot, producing your band,” she said with a touch of cheek. “Speaking of Paradox, did Mickey tell you? Martha finally cleared a date for their wedding!”

“Ooh, no, he didn’t! He was probably worried about backlash from Donna. Lee still hasn’t managed to get the whole proposal out in one sentence and the waiting is driving her spare.”

“Two weddings to look forward to,” she said with a little sigh. “It’ll be marvelous. I love weddings.”

“Yeah?” he asked, taking her right hand in his left and beginning to slow dance them out toward the living room. “Want to have another one?”

She ducked her head slightly. “Doctor, don’t tease!”

“I’m not,” he said. “I’d do it again in a minute. Promise all and sundry that I’ll love you forever. Ten years from now… Twenty years… for however long we have… I will love you every day more than the last.”

She leaned in, resting her head against his shoulder. “Mm… Forever. Sounds about right.”

 

\--- _Coda_ \---

When Paradox eventually decided to explore their own paths, the band split but the bonds of friendship would always hold them together, no matter the distance. More than friends, they were a family.

Donna did eventually marry Lee McAvoy and she became a popular guest on talk shows, known for her humor and no nonsense attitude. She received weekly offers to host her own show. Jack and Ianto adopted a little girl from China. Everyone teased Jack about how he spoiled her, but he regretted nothing. Ianto was always there to rein him in whenever he got _too_ extravagant, insisting that a two year old didn’t need her own car just yet. Rory became a stay-at-home dad with Melody while Amy took her image consulting to the next level. He loved it and never regretted his decision to put his family first. Mickey became a very popular session artist and filled his spare time laying down bass tracks for famous musicians’ albums, before coming home to his wife, Martha, now famous in her own right as a gifted doctor. They were both always busy and wouldn’t have it any other way.

With Paradox disbanded, Rose stepped down from producing, though she had several offers from other promising bands. She wanted to focus on being a mum. She knew it sounded cliche, but she felt it was the right choice for her. The Doctor chose not to go solo, instead he picked up the producing baton. He liked being behind the scenes, it allowed him to keep his private life more separate from his career. It also gave him more free time, which was his real goal, since every moment he spent away from his family felt like a waste.

He and Rose still wrote songs together, some that they published, some that remained private lullabies. They were an unbeatable team and as their son grew, so did their love. It remained a shining beacon that would shore them up time after time, from one adventure to the next.

 

THE END


End file.
